No Boundaries
by witchofdanight1316
Summary: Stan and Kyle's friendship goes through a revolution, Kenny's strapped for cash, Tweek's sick, Craig's lost, Butters is in pain, Wendy's in a love triangle, and how does Christophe play into this? Its just Senior year at South Park High; Its complicated.
1. Had It All Stan

A/N: by far, probably one of the most complicated fanfictions online. I guess I'm doing this out of a weird form of boredom... Oh well.

This story will have several different couples. Style, Bunny, Creek, Bendy and maybe Candy...Slightly. There probably will be love triangles, and several teen themes that will defiantly give the story its T rating. There will most likely be mentions of sex, teen partying, drinking, abuse, teen pregnancy, homosexuality, drug use, teen depression and suicidal thoughts, you get the idea.

Anyway, enjoy the story! People will be able to vote on certain things throughout the story, so keep tuned in and Review!

Mariah

~Style~

Summary: Why would you keep such a big secret from me Kyle? Stan hears a conversation that changes his life forever…and Kyle's.

Chapter 1: Stan and Wendy; Kyle and Bebe

Stan and Kyle had everything going for them.

First of all, they were best friends; Super Best Friends. They were closer then brothers. They did everything together.

Second, they were popular. That didn't mean they had a lot of money like Token, or a lot of social power or anything, which they did. It meant that everyone more or less liked them. Stan was the quarterback and captain of the South Park Cows, who were on their way to state this fall. Kyle was the smartest kid in school, only ahead of Wendy by a few points. They were funny and nice and didn't abuse their social power (unlike their classmate Eric Cartman).

They also had both had scholarships (Stan for football, Kyle for academics) to the University of Denver. They had one way tickets out of their rat hole town and they were leaving together.

And then there are the girlfriends. Let's not forget Wendy Testaburger and Bebe Stevens. The hottest girls in South Park, of course, were constantly joined at the hips (and lips) of these two boys. Wendy and Stan had been off and on since elementary school, while Kyle and Bebe have been steadily strong for almost two years.

Stan and Kyle had everything; and that is where our story begins.

It all started after thanksgiving vacation senior year. Everyone had returned from the break relaxed and happy, high fiving each other and slapping girl's butts, they were all living the good life.

Wendy sat on Stan's lap in the lunchroom the first day back. They were the kind of couple that typically looked completely adorable… when they weren't fighting that is.

Wendy fed Stan a french-fry, and they both giggled afterword. Cartman was stuffing his face and slapping Kenny's hand away when he tried to grab something off his tray. Tweek spilled his coffee again, and Clyde laughed while helping Craig wipe up the mess. Butters just sat there next to Kenny twiddling his thumbs.

And then there was Kyle. He was sitting on the bench, straddling it, Bebe parked between his legs comfortably, and his arms around her waist. His head was turned, talking to Token about their last basketball game against Orange County.

Bebe was obviously flirting with Clyde.

It bothered Stan, a lot that Bebe flirted with other guys frequently; often in front of Kyle. Clyde, Craig, Token, hell, even Kenny at one point or another. Stan tried dropping hints to Kyle, but Kyle didn't seem to mind. Was their relationship so strong that Kyle knew better then to get jealous? Or was it so weak that if Bebe walked away in the next second, he wouldn't even blink? Stan didn't know.

Later that day Stan was walking through the hallways alone. Most of the group hung outside by the football field after school. But Stan had to pee so he went back inside the school alone.

Kyle and Bebe hadn't been outside by the bleachers.

At first, Stan assumed they just bailed or something to maybe go make out since they never did in public. Ever since Bebe went through some whole 'revirginizing' ceremony sophomore year, she became such a major prude. Stan didn't see the point to the whole thing, since she supposedly lost it again to Kyle later that year, but technically that wasn't Stan's business.

As he walked by a staircase that's view was blocked by a wall, he heard voices.

"Bebe please, not today." Stan peeked behind the wall.

Bebe had Kyle pinned against the wall. She was on her knees in front of him, her hands hanging from Kyle's jean pockets. Kyle had his head leaned back so that he was staring at the ceiling.

If Stan didn't know better (which he didn't) he'd have thought that Kyle was turning down a BJ. From Bebe, who was notorious for giving them.

"Are you sure sweetheart? You seem really down today."

"Cut the cute shit ok? No one's watching." Stan was taken aback by Kyle's sudden uncharacteristic harshness, but it didn't faze Bebe at all. She simply stood up and brushed off her skirt.

"Fine. You know, most guys would kill to have me go down on them." She stated.

Kyle brushed his red curly hair from his face.

"You know as well as I do I'm not like most guys." 

"True." She sat down on the stairs and patted the seat silently. Kyle took the hint and sat down beside her. She overlapped her hands on his knee and turned to face him.

"Kyle, you're hot, you're sweet, you're smart, and I really do like you, but I don't think I can do this anymore. I think you should tell Stan and the others what's been going on with you."

He sighed. "I'll tell Stan when you tell Wendy." Bebe turned red.

"Ive been dropping hints for weeks Kyle. Wendy's smart, she'll figure it out eventually. It's only a matter of time. Stan on the other hand…"

"Wendy's different. She's a girl. She's going to be smart and calm. When guys even suspect their friend is even slightly…you know, they go running."

"Say it Kyle. Are you or aren't you?"

He shrugged, looked down and sighed.

"Bebe, I'm gay." Stan couldn't breathe. Bebe nodded.

"I'm so glad you finally admitted it Kyle." She stood up, and started to walk away, but Kyle jumped up and grabbed her arm.

"Wait!" He spun her around and pulled her into an embrace.

"I never got a chance to say thanks. I put you in a loveless relationship for two years. Thank you."

"We both needed this Kyle, to figure everything out."

"I hope things work out for you and Wendy."

"Same for you and Stan."

Stan turned and just ran.

What the fuck just happened?

More to come to this story! Next chapter is either Kenny or Craig. Your choice! Review and tell me!!

Mariah


	2. Orange Is A Prisoners’ Color Kenny

Kenny won, 2:1. Vote more and I'll update faster. Another chapter to come later this week I'm hoping!!

Mariah

Chapter 2: Orange Is A Prisoners' Color.

~Kenny~

I was beginning to think that someone stole my cigarettes again.

I don't typically just lose them. They're, like, 8 bucks a pack. You just don't lose stuff that expensive.

But as I dug through my locker, I began to believe that someone was taking them. This was the third box; this asshole was costing me money.

But the only one who knew my combination was…

"H-Hiya Kenny!" I turned to my left to see little ol' Butters Scotch with that nervous smile that's always plastered on his face. When he saw my frustrated and annoyed expression, he cocked his head to the side.

"Wh-What's the matter?"

"Someone stole my ciggs again." I muttered.

"Oh, that's too bad Ken. But smoking's bad. It puts this tar stuff in your lungs and-"I slammed my locker shut.

"I know that Butters. But I'm not going to quit." Ever since high school started, and our gang started to expand, Butters decided at some point to make me his new best friend. Why? At the time, I didn't care. Now, I don't see a point in asking.

Slowly, we've been changing each other. He's been pushing good habits onto me, like doing my homework and showering every day. I've been pushing bad habits onto him, like sneaking out at night, skipping class, and the occasional curse here and there. We kind of balance each other out.

"Well boy howdy, why not?!" he asked. I could tell he was getting angry. He always did when this conversation comes up. The one thing he openly hates about me is my smoking habit.

"Because I don't see a point." I replied. Might as well be honest with him. We're "best friends" after all. " I don't care what happens to me, and its my body, I can do what I want with it." He scowled.

"Well some people _do_ care what happens to you Ken! A-and this is just slowly killing you."

"The sooner the better, I always say." He started to tremble a bit. Ahh, great, now he's really mad.

"Why don't you think about somebody other than yourself?!" I blinked, startled by his outburst. He turned red, then pushed past me and ran off.

I didn't know what he was talking about. I cared about other people. Like my mom, who I gave my paycheck to after working 40 hours a week because she's too sick to work. Or my sister Kelly, who I take care of like she's my own daughter. Or my older brother Kevin, who's too absorbed with his heroin addiction to keep a steady job. Like Stan and Kyle, who I hide most of this information from so that they don't get hurt.

If anything, I care about myself the least, but Butters is the last person to know that. He doesn't know a goddamn thing about me.

I sighed. I couldn't tell Butters anything. I accepted that even if it meant he thought I was selfish.

I didn't care what Butters thought anyway.

I was about to leave for class when I realized I didn't have a pen again. So I opened Butter's locker, and planned to just borrow one from him. He wouldn't mind, I know he wouldn't. Next to his blue lunchbox was about four pens, three pencils…

And a box of Marlboro cigarettes.

_My _cigarettes!

I was angry, of course. But I wasn't going to yell at him for it. He was just trying to help me.

He was just being horribly annoying with it.

I couldn't be mean to Butters, couldn't yell at him. There was something about him that just wouldn't let me.

I couldn't understand myself at all.

So I took a pen and my ciggs, shoved them into my pocket and walked into the history classroom, just as the bell was ringing.

"Mr. McCormick. So glad you could join us. Please take a seat." My teacher said. I was late all the time, but she was too nice to ever report me. I liked her.

"Yes Ma'am." I drawled with a fake southern accent, and then strutted over to my seat behind Butters like I owned the place.

Cocky huh? Yeah, that's me.

I relaxed behind Butters, and then leaned forward to whisper into his ear.

"You know, stealing can get you suspended. I would know." I huffed a breath of hot hair onto his neck.

When he jumped, I smiled.

Eventually, the teacher let us just hang out for the last few minutes of class. I knew there was a reason I liked her, despite the fact she was pretty banging.

Butters turned in his seat to face me, looking guilty.

"Gosh Kenny, you-you're not sore at me are you? I was just trying to-"

"Help. Yeah, I know." I crossed my arms over my chest.

"Look Butters. I appreciate what you're intentions are, but this is like trying to push a cart sideways or something. I'm not easily changed, and frankly, I don't see a reason why I should change. You're wasting your-" He interrupted me.

"No, I'm not Ken, Really. I…want to help you. You're my b-best friend…I care about you." These words from Butters didn't make any sense to me. Why would Butters want to care about me, when I've purposely given him a million reasons not to? It wasn't right, I wasn't worth his attention. And more importantly…

Did I care about him?

Oddly, the response came easily. Yes I do. A lot more then I had originally thought.

And that scared me.

Thankfully, the bell rang, and I stood up to hear a rip. I looked down; my orange sweatshirt sleeve had torn. Again. Great.

"What's wrong Ken?" I sighed.

"My sweatshirt ripped again. I'm going to have to throw it out. I've worn that ugly orange hoodie as long as I could remember. I didn't like it, but it was, literally, all I had. It was orange, like a prisoners' jumpsuit. I was a prisoner in this damn life.

"Well, do you have another one?" He asked me. I sighed again. "Nope, guess I'm going without."

I left the classroom after that, embarrassed. Being poor really, really sucked.

But being attached to someone and not knowing why sucked more.

Next chapter; Tweek.


	3. Whats Wrong with Me? Tweek

A/N: This chapter is a lot longer, and there is more dialogue. I will make the chapters longer as I go, but some will have to be short.\

Mariah

Chapter 3

~Tweek~

I know there are a lot of things wrong with me.

I have anxiety, paranoia, ADHD, depression, schizophrenia, and depression. I have to take six different kinds of medication a day. Of course, I hate them. They may calm me down, but they make me randomly black out, and they make me irritable, if not moody and depressed, so I rarely took them. Almost never.

No one really liked to put up with me, the town spaz. I know that I annoyed everyone.

Everyone except one.

Craig Tucker.

He hated almost everyone, flipped off each person in South Park at least 3 times each. He's gotten into fights almost as often as he skips school. He was angry, and had the coldest, fiercest gray eyes I have ever seen. His black hair usually covered most of those eyes, and his hat usually covered that. Craig was moody, sarcastic and impatient with everyone…

Except me.

Only for me is Craig patient, kind, gentle, protective…nice. He'd come over at 2 in the morning If I called. He'd sit on my bed while I slept and guarded me from the terrors I imagined at night. He'd talk me off a ledge or whatever during one of my many psychotic breaks, a thermos of coffee at the ready.

Craig took care of me. Why? I asked him that once. All he said was;

"It gives me something else to think about." Then he dropped the subject.

It made me sound like I was nothing more than a time killer for him, but I didn't believe that. Craig hates to waste his time, plus, no one devotes that much into something that means nothing to them.

Craig was special to me, even with his multitude of issues.

I know Craig had a lot of problems, but he refused to talk to about them, to me or to anyone else. I thought Clyde might know something, but I was never in the right state of mind to ask him. Not to mention Craig never left me alone for extended periods of time.

At the time, I didn't understand why Craig was so important to me. But all I really wanted, besides to rid myself of my mental ailments, was for Craig to be happy.

"C-Craig?! AHH! Can you-erg- come over?!" The gnomes were back, and I was scared out of my mind. What if they tried to kill me? Or steal my underwear again? Oh god! Craig was the only one who could keep them away. I looked over at the clock. It was 1:35 in the morning. I hated keeping Craig up all night. He didn't need it, but I needed him.

I heard him groan, and his bed creek.

"What is it Tweek?" he asked.

"The gnomes! They're in my closet and watching me Craig!"

"I'll be right there." He groaned again. "give me ten minutes."

"P-promise?" I asked.

"Yeah. Just hold on for exactly ten minutes." He hung up.

I sat there, shaking in fear, until I heard Craig's special knock on my window. Two fast, three slow, then another two fast. Yes I was this messed up that Craig needed a special knock to come into my room. But what if the serial killers tried to get in? I couldn't take any chances. I rushed over to the window to see Craig, fully dressed, hat pulled down over his face, dangling from the frame.

"Don't just stand there, help me in Tweek!" He held out his hand, and I tried to pull him in. I lost my balance, and we both hit the floor hard.

He cried out in pain, and wrapped his arms around his torso. We didn't fall _that_ hard. I couldn't see his expression in the darkness.

"Bah! Craig, what's the matter?" he shakily stood up.

"Nothing." He held out his arm to help me up. I took it.

"Get into bed. I'll keep watch, ok?" He gave me a reassuring smile in the darkness. I could already sense the gnomes fleeing from Craig's might.

I nodded, and got into bed. Craig sat at the end of the bed, arms crossed, back against the wall, and feet dangling off the edge. I felt safe with Craig and with all that went flying through my head that was rare.

"H-hey Craig?" I whispered after awhile.

"Yeah?" My eyes felt heavy.

"Thanks for always taking care of me." His dark silhouette didn't move.

"Get some sleep Tweekers." I smiled at his private nickname for me. Then I shut my eyes and fell asleep.

* * *

The sun hit my face full force early that next morning. It was finally Friday; the weekend was just a day away. It was 7:30. School started in half an hour.

"SHIT!" I jumped up and rushed into my closet. Just as I turned to bolt to the bathroom, I heard a soft thud, from behind me. I turned to my bed.

Craig had fallen asleep, and when I had left the bed, he fell over onto his side. He looked so peaceful…

Anyway, I scurried to the bathroom, and changed, then went to the medicine cabinet. The pills I was prescribed sat there ready for me. I drank some water from the sink and swallowed them down. I wanted to show Craig that I could be normal. I took the prescription bottle and shoved it into my jeans pocket. They didn't last long, and I knew that I'd have to take more later.

When I went back into my room, Craig had shifted so that he was laying on his back. His shirt had ridden up, exposing just above his bellybutton. But there was something wrong…something was under his shirt…

I snuck up to his sleeping figure, the tremors already slowing from the medication pumping through my system. I lifted his shirt a little more.

His whole torso was covered in bruises.

"Jesus Christ!" I shrieked. Craig stirred.

"Tweek? It-" He sat up, and cocked an eyebrow at my handful of his shirt.

It was then I noticed the black eye.

"What the hell are you doing to my shirt?" Craig looked down at himself and saw what I saw. He understood. He looked back up at me, an expression on his face I couldn't read. Fear? Sadness? I didn't know.

"Tweek…"

"What happened Craig?" Wow, no stutter.

"Nothing." He looked away.

"Did the gnomes get you?" He sighed, eyes shut.

"God dammit Tweek."

"W-wha?"

"Never mind. Get ready for school." I did as I was told, slowly regaining my fractured sanity.

* * *

Craig left my side for a while at school. He instructed me to go to class, and he'd be there at the end of the period. He said he was skipping to go talk to Clyde about something after school. The way he ordered me made me wonder if I _always_ tweaked out if Craig wasn't around.

With my mind clear for the first time in months, I was finally able to see and be suspicious of Craig's behavior. I realized that this wasn't the first time that Craig had suspicious injuries. He always claimed it was from fights, and I trusted him blindly enough to just believe him.

What if someone was hurting Craig? The idea enraged me, which was odd because I never really get mad. The concept of someone hurting Craig when he didn't start it (or even when he _did_ start it) enflamed me as well as scared me. Who could be strong enough to actually push Craig around? Craig was unbeatable.

I went into the boys bathroom, when I heard someone come in, I hid in a stall.

"Lemme take a better look at it Craig." I peeked through a crack in the door.

Clyde had Craig's face tilted towards the light, he was examining Craig's bruised eye, brushing his finger over it lightly.

"Wow, he popped you pretty damn good, huh?" He said. Craig pulled away from Clyde's touch.

"Not helping Clyde."

"Sorry dude. So when'd he give you that shiner?"

"After school yesterday. Son of a bitch was going after my sister."

"Again?"

"Yup. Tried to stop him, and he decked me."

"Why was he mad at her?"

"hell I don't know Clyde. She could have looked at him the wrong way for all I know. He's fucking crazy."

"Did you talk to your mom?"

"What the hell could she possibly do? She's afraid of him too. You know that." Craig leaned back against a wall.

"Teri's planning to go live with Dylan until she graduates."

"What about you?"

"I don't know. I might go live with Tweek or something but-"

"Dude, don't go to Tweek."

"Huh? Why not?"

"Cause, you shouldn't even hang out with him in the first place."

"What the hell Clyde?"

"Seriously dude, you're his babysitter."

"No I'm not."

"You guard him from imaginary lawn gnomes."

"Underpants gnomes."

"See my point?"

"Up yours, Clyde." Craig flipped him off. I couldn't believe they were having this conversation like I wasn't even there…oh wait, they didn't know I was there…

"Look Craig, I know how you feel about Tweek, and that's why I let you do all of this crazy shit for him every single day. But are you planning on taking care of him for the rest of his life? You have more important things to worry about then invisible elves taking Tweek's boxers."

Craig looked away. "He's getting better."

"You know that's not true. People like him don't get better."

I silently begged Craig to defend me. If I just took my meds, I was better, almost normal. He knew it. He'd seen it before. But Craig just yanked his hat down over his eyes, then crossed his arms. He didn't speak. Did he believe Clyde?

"I think you should maybe tell Tweek everything if you feel so strongly."

"I do, but I can't."

"Craig, you're one of the toughest guys in South Park, yet you can't admit to Tweek how much you-"

"Shut up. Fuck you Clyde."

"Tweek has a right to know, and if he's getting better like you said, he should be able to handle it."

"But what if he rejects me?"

"Something tells me he won't."

"What makes you say that?"

"You're the only one Tweek will let get close. And I'm pretty sure, that if he could, he'd do everything to make sure he wasn't a burden to you."

"Maybe…" he sighed.

"Damn straight!" I thought aloud.

Oops.

They both whipped their heads to my voice. Clyde stomped over and kicked open the stall.

I couldn't help it, I screamed.

"Tweek?" Craig asked, eyes wide, and looking mortified. Panicked. Craig never panicked. Something was defiantly wrong here.

"Craig! GAHH!" uh oh. My ticks were coming back.

"What are you doing in here? You hate public bathrooms." His voice was so gentle, not like the hostile and angry tone he was using with Clyde only moments ago.

Then Craig figured it out.

"Oh my god." He kneeled down to my eye level, because I had fallen to the floor.

"Tweekers, are you…taking your medication?" I yelped.

"Tweekers?" Clyde snickered. Craig flipped him off again.

"GAH! Yeah." This wasn't good. I reached into my pocket. I needed my pills. Now.

"Why?" I didn't answer until the orange bottle was in my hands.

"Cause I-AHH! Needed to talk to you." My hands were shaking too much. I couldn't unscrew the cap. Craig must have noticed my distress, because he took the bottle, unscrewed the cap, and handed it back to me. I quickly poured out the dose and swallowed dry. It hurt my throat.

He looked straight into my eyes.

"Tweek, how much of that did you hear?" He asked, calm and gentle. Clyde looked at us, dumbfounded. Craig wasn't this patient with anyone else.

"E-everything." He sighed.

"Tweek, I think we need to have a talk." He grabbed my arm, and gently assured me to my feet; Craig never intentionally hurt me. He took me out of the bathroom, completely ignoring Clyde, who was scratching his head, confused.

A/N: Next chapter can be either Stan, Butters, or Bebe. Your pick!

Mariah


	4. Barstool Confessions Stan

Chapter 4,

A/N (cause I probably won't be able to update for a week or two…I don't know yet.) For those of you who were confused as to where this story is going and why it has 3 different beginnings, don't worry, I am not crazy…ok that's a lie. This story will circle around 4 (maybe 5) separate couples, and eventually all of the steamily separate stories will come together in one way or another.

How? Well you're just going to have to tune in and find out, now won't you?

WARNING: Teen drinking. Not a big deal to me, but for some it is and I don't want flames of some sort complaining. I warned you in the beginning what was going to be in this story, so no bitching! (lol) Anyway… Chapter 4 everybody.

Chapter 4: Barstool Confessions

~Stan ~

Kyle is gay.

Kyle might be gay.

Kyle likes guys.

Kyle is a homosexual.

Kyle is gay.

No matter how many different ways I said it, or how many times I said it, I couldn't wrap my mind around it. It didn't make sense.

Actually, it explained a lot. Other than his relationship with Bebe, he never really showed any 'straight' behavior. Never openly stared at girls, or even seemed remotely interested in any conversations about them. Not to mention the kid wore skinny jeans and watched freaking Degrassi.

I think we all kind of knew, to a degree. And I know that it was getting to the point where people were honestly questioning it, until he started going out with Bebe. Then people stopped questioning completely.

The official rumor was that Kyle and Bebe broke up after deciding that there was no future in their relationship and they just didn't feel the same way about each other anymore as they used to. No hard feelings.

Sounds about right, but they left out a few details.

Like how Kyle was gay.

"Stan! Hey Stan!" I turned my attention from my locker to the source of my name. Kyle sprinted towards me from his Calculus classroom. I''d been avoiding Kyle all day, and now I couldn't just run.

"Kyle, hey." I said shutting my previously opened locker. Looks like I'll just have to play it cool.

"Dude, what are you doing Friday night?" He seemed excited, way more then a guy should be about anything after a breakup, regarless of the circomstances.

"I don't know. Hang out with Wendy maybe? Why?"

"The guys are planning a night out before the football season starts. You know, Raisins and stuff? Then a big party at Token's next week." One part struck me as odd.

"Raisins? You want to go to Raisins Kyle?" Kyle cocked his head.

"Yeah…Why? Did you want to do something else?"

I shook my head. "No. Raisins sound good. What time?"

"7. Friday night. We'll meet outside and all go in together. OK?" He was looking at me funny.

"Yeah. Cool. 7. Got it." Kyle smiled and started to walk away, probably to his next class.

"Kyle wait!" He looked back.

"Yeah?" I paused.

"Never mind." He gave me another weird glance, and then walked away.

I am such a pussy.

I needed to ask Kyle. I know I didn't hear him wrong in the hallway, but why would he want to go to Raisins, where half naked girls would be the main attraction and running around? Even when he was straight, that wasn't normal for him.

And then something occurred to me. Who else knew? Obvioulsy Bebe, but what about Clyde? Craig? Tweek? Token? Kenny? Butters? Cartman?

Probably not Cartman.

What if he didn't want anyone else to know? And what did Bebe mean when she said…

"I hope things go well with you and Stan."?

Did he plan to come out to me? What would I say? 

Would I treat Kyle any differently?

No. I don't think so. Kyle's been my best friend since preschool. No way was his… sexual preference going to change our friendship…

Right?

All of these questions were making my head spin.

I continued to avoid Kyle for three more days until Friday. Then I knew I had to talk to him.

When I finally got up the nerve to show up to Raisins, I turned out to be the last one there.

"You're late, fag." Cartman grunted. The comment made my pulse quicken. I couldn't help but watch Kyle'sm every more. What was he going to do in Raisins?

It was Me, Kyle, Cartman, Token, Tweek, Craig, Clyde, and Butters. Kenny had to work, so he couldn't come. We all stepped into the resteraunt and were greeted buy a flirty blonde waitress whose nametag said "Sunshine".

"Hi there welcome to Raisins! Eight of you?" She grabbed a stack of meues and lead us to a large half circle booth near the bar.

Yes bar. South Park didn't believe in the whole "Drinking age". 16 was fine for them, so it was fine for us, as long as we behaved.

And we did…as far as they knew.

So yes, Raisins was the local teen equivalence of "Hooters".

We all sat down, ordered sodas and chicken wings. We goofed around, harassed Craig about a black eye he's developed some point during the week. HE flipped us off and refused to comment.

Kyle took off his orange parka and threw it onto his chair. He was wearing a long sleeved green shirt.

"I'm heading to the bar." He said, and walked to the bar and sat on a stool.

I contemplated following him. Maybe with a few drinks in him he would be more willing to talk to me.

So I mimmiked Kyle's movements. I tossed my jacket onto the bence and sat on a bar stool right next to him.

He was on his third shot of god knows what. It smelled like scotch, but I wasn't sure.

I flagged down the bartender Barbie.

"Hey! The usual please." She nodded, and walked across the bar to follow up on my order.

When I got my drink, I took a sip of my liquid courage.

"Hey Kyle, can I ask you something?" I said after two more hits.

"Sure. What is it?" He was still coherent. He held his liquor a little better than I did.

"Why… did you and Bebe break up?" He didn't even blink or look up at me when he answered.

"We just don't feel the same way about each other anymore. It wasn't working out. No big deal." He swallowed another shot and flagged Barbie down again as she walked by.

"Or is it because…" I stalled, and waited for Barbie to go to the other side of the bar, away from us.

"What?" Kyle starting to get droopy, reaching the shot glass to his lips.

"Or is it because…you're gay?"

The glass stopped. He didn't say anything.

"Kyle?"

"Where did you hear that?" He growled.

"From you… and Bebe…in the hallway on Monday."

He growled, pushed some red curly hair out of his face and placed the shot glass down on the counter.

"Who did you tell?" His voice was monotone. He didn't even try to deny it.

"No one."

"Not even Wendy?"

"No. Not her, not anyone." He sighed.

"Okay." He didn't say anything for what felt like forever.

"Well? Is it true?" He looked away, refusing to meet my eyes.

"This wasn't exactly how I wanted to tell you."

"So it _is _true?" He sighed again.

"Yes." I slouched in my seat. It was official; Kyle was gay.

"Are…are you sure?" He rolled his eyes.

"Yes Stan. I'm sure." He motioned to Barbie for another round.

"But have you ever… you know…_kissed_ a guy?"

"Yes?" Not the response I was expecting.

"Who?" He finally looked at me.

"None of your business Stan!" his outburst startled me into silence.

"I'm sorry dude... Look it's complicated alright?"

Yeah, sure man." I turned to my drink, feeling down.

"Super best friends forever, right Kyle? No matter what?"

Kyle smiled.

"No matter what."

* * *

A/N: There ya go. There has to be some more Bebe, Kenny and Craig before Style can continue properly. So who's next? Choose! Review!

Mariah


	5. Dismantle Repair Butters&Kenny

No Boundaries

Chapter 5: Dismantle. Repair; Butters Kenny

~Butters~

I try to be a good boy. I work hard and do my homework and am super nice to everyone. I treat everyone fairly.

Except for one.

Kenny McCormick.

The so called "Bad-boy-womanizing-player-who'd-rather-skip-class-and-go-to-topless-bars-and-smoke-then-cram-for-his-SATS."

Kenny was wild, untamed, unpredictable, even a little dangerous…

But I couldn't stay away from him.

I started hanging out with Kenny more our freshman year, and the more I did, the more I couldn't stand to be away from him for too long. He was always on my mind, always in the corner of my eye.

By the time I realized what was happening, it was already too late. I had a crush on Kenny.

More than a crush, actually. I was in love with him.

Meaning I was gay.

For my best friend.

Oh hamburgers.

"Yo Butters! Gimmie your pudding!" Eric yelled at me from across the lunch table. I didn't even really want it, so I handed it over. He didn't even say thank you.

"You okay dude? You seem upset…" Kyle asked me from his seat next to Stan. He always looked kind of sad, but he won't tell me anything and I'm not the kind of person who forces information out of people. That's Eric's job.

"Yeah Butters, what's your problem?"

I looked down.

"Aw, it's nothing fellas. Kenny's just been actin' strange lately."

"Strange? Isn't that normal for Kenny?" Kyle shrugged to Stan's comment. I twiddled my fingers; a nervous habit of mine.

"Well, he's been skipping a lot more lately and smoking more…"

"That might have to do with his dad walking out." Eric commented, absorbed in a political book and eating French fries.

"W-wha?" was all I could utter.

"His dad. Walked out. Last night. God read the freaking news paper." Eric turned a page, like he was talking about the weather or something"

"It's in the _news_?!" Stan jumped.

"What else does this redneck town have to write about?"

"Why would they do something like that?!" Kyle asked, leaning over the table, his palms pressed angrily against the white plastic.

"Don't know, don't care." He snapped his book shut. "I'm late for meeting. Later fags." He stalked off. I shook my head. Eric was a good friend of mine, but sometimes he tended to be a…a…

"Fucking Nazi asshole." Yeah, that.

"Calm down Kyle, this isn't the first time he did something like this." Stan grabbed Stan's shoulder, willing him to sit back down. Kyle obeyed hesitantly.

I slouched back into my seat. Why didn't Kenny tell me about this? I told Kenny everything. I wished he did the same.

"I think he's working tonight at the garage. He's usually pretty mellow around cars. Go see him after school.

I beamed, thanked Stan for the tip, then ran off as the bell rang.

I wanted to be close to Kenny. I'd do anything.

Stan was right; Kenny was working that night.

Roger's garage was downtown near Kenny's house. It had cars high up on platforms and pieces and tools were all over the place, like a Home Depot. Exploded.

A bulletin board was pinned up on the left wall with a monthly schedule on it. Kenny worked a lot of hours, almost 40 hours a week. How he managed that along with school I wasn't sure.

I couldn't help but wonder how much stress he was under.

I felt out of place. Everyone there was like, 30, and all had long hair and were all greasy. I didn't like it, so I rushed to find Kenny.

I found him bent under the hood of what looked like an old mustang. I didn't have a clue as to what exactly he was doing, but there was a lot of 'clanking' and 'cranking' noises. The white T-shirt he was wearing was covered in little black and gray stains.

"H-Hiya Kenny!" THUNK! Kenny's head came in full force contact with the car hood. Oops.

"Son of a…" He stood up, rubbing the back of his head, grimacing, then turned and realized it was me.

"Butters?" I pointed to the device in his hand.

"What's that?" He glanced down at it.

"It's a ratchet." He looked back up at me. "What are you doing here?"

"I-I need to talk to you."

"Can't it wait?" He asked in a low voice, glancing around. Was he not supposed not have visitors? He wiped his face with a red handkerchief.

"Hey Ken! Didn't I warn you about tappin' jailbait?! "A loud voice boomed from across the room. It belonged to a skinny black guy lying underneath a truck.

"Shut up Jeff, you know it aint like that!" Kenny retorted, then grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the garage.

"I'm taking ten!" He called. Jeff laughed.

He lead me outside, and pushed me up against the wall. 

"What is it Butters? Don't you realize what kind of trouble I could have just gotten into just now?" Kenny was angry. I didn't like it when he was angry; it was scary.

"Well gee Kenny. I didn't know you couldn't have visitors…" His expression softened, and he let me go.

"It's not the visitors Butters. They…they think I'm 21."

"What?!'

I had to lie about my age to get this job. They won't hire anyone under 21."

"Then why did you apply?"

"Because I need this job."

When I didn't say anything right away, he continued.

"Look…my family…we're not doing so hot right now. I need this to keep us out of the poor house. If I get fired, we'll have to leave South Park." Guilt hit me hard. I almost got him fired. I almost ruined what was left of Kenny's life.

"Gosh Ken. I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to get you in trouble." He smiled and ran a hand though his hair.

"It's okay Butters."

"I-I won't come by here ever again."

"You don't have to be that extreme dude. I'm just going to have to find an excuse as to why you're over here. You know, not my classmate. Brother, cousin, neighbor…"

"Boyfriend?" It just slipped out. I covered my mouth. Oh hamburgers!

Kenny looked at me, confused, unaware. He had no idea, and he didn't feel the same.

"Butters? Is that your warped way of asking me out?"

My face was on fire. I couldn't breathe.

When I didn't answer him again, he leaned against the wall next to me. I turned to say something to cover my bottom, but he kissed me!

I secretly dreamed about what it would be like to kiss Kenny. Would he tell me he loved me and sweep me off my feet? Knowing him that wasn't likely. I was a hopeless romantic; I read Twilight. I knew Kenny didn't waste his time with stuff like that.

He eventually released me, and went back to leaning against the wall like it didn't happen.

I was hyperventilating.

"What did that taste like to you Butters?" He asked in a monotone. His eyes got dark and distance.

"Wh-wha?"

"Cigarettes right? Maybe beer? motor oil?" I stared at him.

"I'm not good for you Butters. You should never have associated yourself with me." He got off the wall and started to go back into the garage. I couldn't let him leave.

I grabbed his arm. His skin was hot, despite the frigid air outside around us.

"Kenny, wait!" He stopped, but didn't look at me.

"You're not bad for me, honest! A-and even if you were…well, by golly I don't give a rat's ass!" He finally looked at me, surprised. I hated swearing, but if it got my point across…

He turned towards me, my hand still gripping his arm, and he leaned in close. I hoped he was going to kiss me again, but he didn't.

He bit his lip, and averted his eyes.

"I have to go back to work. Go home Butters." He wrenched his arm from my grip gently and walked inside to the garage.

I was rejected.

My heart began to break…

Hamburgers.

~Kenny~

He was wringing his hands again, you know, that adorable little way he does. Nervous.

Wait.

_Adorable_???

What the hell? Since when did I think anything was _adorable_?

God I needed a cig.

I couldn't help myself. Suddenly, I wanted him.

Before I knew it, I was kissing him. He felt right; I liked it. I liked Butters.

When I pulled back, I realized something. I would be _terrible_ for him. I mean, look what I had done to him already? He lied and skipped class and went to wild parties now. Even if it wasn't often, he did it. And it was my fault. I was crazy. I was a smoker, an occasional drinker. I worked 40 hours a week under the table. I skipped school, I shoplifted, and I've been arrested…5 times. He'd be out of his mind to be in to me. And I'd kissed him.

I had to think of something. I knew what would happen if I pursued Butters.

I'd ruin him.

I didn't want that.

And honestly, I didn't understand my feelings at all at that point.

"What did it taste like Butters?"

He looked flustered; Butters often did. It was cute.

_Cute._ Ugh.

"What?"

I told him I was trouble, and I wasn't good for him. I knew I wasn't good enough to be his _friend_, let alone anything more. He deserved a prince, not a peasant.

It hurt to send him away.

Butters, with his lost, sad, completely innocent eyes. Butters, who was the only one I knew who cared. The only one who mourned when I died.

I liked him, and bad things happened when I liked people too much.

Anger rose in my chest when he slumped away. I knotted my fingers in my hair and pulled. What was I feeling?! Why won't this stop?! I don't need this! Not now!

I kicked over a tool rack and drudged home.

"I'm going to lunch!"


	6. Stay Craig&Tweek

I guess the last chapter was a fail. Some people didn't like it. Kenny's a hard person to write about, and so is Butters. With Kenny, I was going for "Scattered", but I think I failed. I'll try harder next time. Promise! Oh, and this will have two POVs as well.

Chapter 6 Stay

~Tweek~

Craig pulled me outside through the back door by the gym. I could hear shoes squeaking and balls hitting the walls inside the gym through the wide open door. I tried to tell Craig we were going to get in trouble if we got caught, but the concept of detention or suspension never seemed to ever faze Craig Tucker.

When we got just past the gym door, he paused and leaned against the brick wall, then pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

I stayed silence as I watched him light one, puffed and stared into the distance.

It was quiet for too long.

"I'm sorry Tweek." His voice made me jump and I almost cried out.

"It.." Another puff. "Must not have made any sense to you."

"Something tells me it should have. Made sense I mean." I fidgeted with the buttons on my shirt.

"Yeah, it should have. That's my fault."

Another puff of his cigarette, another quiet breath. It was killing me.

I thought about what Clyde said. How I couldn't get better, how I had no control.

I'll show them control.

While his eyes were closed, basking in the calming effects of nicotine, I got close to his face. So close, our noses were almost touching. I put my hands on his shoulders, and then moved one to his bruised eye. His eyes flew open, startled and frozen by my touch. His cigarette hissed when it fell and hit the snow.

"Tweek…" If I had heard Clyde right, Craig had some kind of secret to tell me. I wanted…no….needed to know about it.

But there was one thing I knew about Craig. He couldn't say no to me.

"Who did this to you Craig? Talk to me. We used to talk all the time." I said in a low voice.

Then, Craig did something I never would have believed if I didn't see it myself.

He wrapped his arms around me, and pulled me into an unexpected embrace. My face was in his shoulder, and I couldn't see it when he spoke.

"You're right. You have a right to know what's been going on with me. I hate having to hide things from you."

I waited. He sighed.

"My dad has a drinking problem. Almost every night, he comes home drunk. Since I won't let him hurt my mom or my sister, he beats me. Most days when you think I'm skipping, I'm actually in so much pain, I…I can't get out of bed."

I couldn't believe it. Everything fit. The bruises, the anger, then distance, it all made sense now.

"Sometimes he says terrible things to me. Like no one loves me and I'm useless, better off dead. He's right, I know that."

I hugged Craig back. His forehead was pressing into my shoulder.

"Have you ever wanted to end it Tweek? Just end it all? I do. All the time. But if I did…who'd take care of mom and Kelly? …Who'd take care of you?"

I wanted to cry, but Craig beat me to it. My shoulder was getting warm.

His breathing was shaky, so I held him closer. This wasn't my Craig. The strong, confident, neutral expression wearing guy I've known for years. My Craig never cried.

I tried to pry him off of me, but he held tight.

"No. Don't. I don't want you to see me like this."

"You've seen me in worse condition. Common." I pulled again, he didn't put up a fight.

And I looked at him.

Crystal tears were dripping down his cheeks. His eyes, full of pain I couldn't even being to imagine, averted mine. He sniffed, face pink.

All my life, I've though as things as threatening or out to get me, but not this time. For the first time ever, I thought something was beautiful.

I stood on my tiptoes after he shut his eyes again. I gently kissed his blackened eye. He flinched at the touch.

I liked being in control for once.

Suddenly, Craig grabbed the back of my neck and jerked me forward. Next thing I knew, he'd swooped down and pressed his lips against mine.

It felt like I had stuck my face into something electric. His skin shocked mine on contact and made my knees give out from under me. I didn't fall though; turns out Craig had grabbed my waist, keeping me elevated.

Craig had regained control again, and I was ok with it.

Soon, I was kissing him back. I wasn't anxious, paranoid, or anything. I wasn't anything, except content.

"I'll get it!" Something tapped against my foot. I broke away from Craig's lips to see a red kickball. Kyle Broflovski stared at us in his red and gray gym uniform, green eyes wide and mouth gaping like a fishes.

He saw us!

Craig just glared at him and flipped him off.

"You say anything Broflovski and you'll wish you hadn't." he simply said. He was back to his old self suddenly.

And _I _was bipolar?

Kyle turned red, nodded, grabbed the ball and scurried back into the gym.

"Nerd." He grumbled, and then tried to capture my lips again. But I pulled away completely, taking a few steps back.

"Craig, wait." He shrugged, and started to light another cigarette.

Damn those things. I was mad now.

I ripped the butt from his mouth.

"UGH! Dammit Craig!"

"What the hell Tweek?!"

"What the hell?! Craig, do you realize what we just did?!"

"We kissed, and then you took my last cig. Fork it over.

I threw it onto the ground and crushed it with my converse sneaker.

"Craig, why did you kiss me?" 

"Because I wanted to."

"Why?"

He didn't answer right away, and I was really starting to get mad. How could he do something like that and act like it wasn't important? That was my first kiss damn it!

"Craig!"

"I like you! Okay Tweek?! I like you!"

I was taken aback. Part of me had seen it coming. A small, hopeful part in the back of my mind had always thought it. I didn't know what love was. But if someone ever asked me "who do you love?" the only answer I'd be able to come up with is…

Craig Tucker.

He looked away again.

"Craig…"

~Craig~

I loved Tweek.

I loved him and I knew it. I wanted him all to myself more than anything else in the world.

Clyde knew. He was the only one who I could confide in about anything. We've been tight for so long, I couldn't see anyone better to trust.

Not to mention he was kind of afraid of me, so I knew he wouldn't ever tell others what I told him.

I couldn't tell Tweek. He never would have been able to handle it. "Too much pressure" as he'd like to say. And I never want to pressure him into doing anything.

Tweek was sick. All kinds of issues and medication he refused to take, we all knew about it. When I managed to talk him into taking his pills, he was almost completely normal. But he hated them, and like I said, I never tried to force him into doing anything. I protected and cared for him.

"I like you! Okay Tweek?! I like you!" When I finally confessed, I didn't want to. I felt like I've been hiding it for so long, it just burst out, like soda from a shaken bottle.

He stared at me, wide root beer brown eyes like saucers. I was exposed to him in a way I didn't like. I felt naked. Tweek was only supposed to see me as a strong super hero, and I couldn't let him down.

"Craig…" I shut my eyes. It was over. He was going to reject me. He was going to…

Something warm and soft pressed against my lips. When I opened my eyes, it was Tweek's lips.

He was kissing me.

That means…he wants me too.

He snaked his arms around my neck and I deepened the kiss. I pulled his waist so that we were pressed against each other. He was so small and warm…and tasted like coffee.

I loved him. I knew I did. I, Craig Tucker, who hates everything and everyone, fell in love.

I'm soo happy.

And soo screwed.

To be continued.

Was it any good? I hope so. Next chapter is Bunny again, only because that needs to happen before Stan and Kyle can progress properly.

Will Kenny and Butters talk about what happened? Will Bebe finally talk to Wendy? What's going on with Stan? Find out!

.


	7. Only Fooling Myself Kenny&Butters

Chapter 7 Only Fooling Myself

~Butters~

Kenny avoided me all week. He still walked me to class and sat with me on the bus and at lunch (after his smoke breaks with Craig and Christophe) but he seemed distant, and I didn't like it one bit by golly.

I wanted to talk to him about the kiss. I wanted to talk to him about _anything_ and have it not be strained. I could tell he was smoking more, and he ditched his frayed orange jacket for a light long sleeved zip up he found in the lost and found. I was worried he was going to get sick with such cold weather, and Craig Tucker and Christophe didn't help any by selling him cigarettes outside behind the school.

I wanted to help him. I wanted to show him that there were people who actually cared for him.

A thought struck me; I had an idea.

~Kenny~

"Yo frenchie! Marboros today?" I shivered as I yelled to Christophe Nommel, AKA "The Mole". Rumors say he's a French mercenary. Even Stan and Kyle believed that, but I didn't. Christophe was just a sociopath who dressed in army print camo pants and black long sleeved shirts and smoked like a chimney.

Mercenary my ass.

"'fraid nota, McCormick. Today ez Camel." He answered in that heavy French accent.

"Ahh damn."

"You should ve thankval dat I sell you dese at such a cheap price."

"Yeah yeah, I appreciate it. Common I'm dyin' over here." I rubbed my arms and observed my visable breathe. He sighed, said something French and tossed a pack my way.

I wouldn't say Christophe and I were "friends" per say. I bought ciggs off him and he gets forged call passes and sick notes from me. We're more like business partners.

"Damn McCormick, you _like_ that menthol shit?" Craig.

Shaggy black hair, longer then Stan's and twice as messy. He's good looking, a hot body in loose jeans, but he tended to be an asshole to everyone except Tweek Tweak. There were rumors about that too, but that's another story.

"Ehh makes no difference to me. Nicotine is nicotine."

"True. Menthol makes my lungs bleed though." I shrugged as I pulled out my lighter and lit up.

"Wouldn't be the first time my lungs bled." Noone commented. They knew better. Noone talked about my semi-chronic dying. It was an unspoken rule; I could joke about it but no one else could. It's probably not fair, but oh well.

It was silent for awhile, except for the the blowing wind and our lungs inhaling the toxins from our cigs. The three of us leaned against the red brick wall outside the school like we thought we were cool. I guess at the time we did think that.

"Kenny!" Oh god no. Butters came around the wall, arms behind his back, smiling.

"Aww hell." Craig voiced my annoyance. I didn't appreciate it.

"What are you doing out here Butters? Don't you have class?" We all did, technically, but that wasn't the point.

"I asked to go to the bathroom."

"Butters Stotch _lying_? Hot damn, the impossible _is_ possible. Maybe I'll pass geometry this year.

"Clamp it Craig." I hissed. He just flipped me off and went back to smoking (big surprised).

"Whatcha doing fellas?" God, really?

"What does it look like ve are doing Stotch?" Christophe blew smoke from his nose to emphasize his obvious activity.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, a habit I picked up from Stan years ago.

"What are you doing out here Butters? Seriously, I know you aren't here to smoke."

"Gosh no Kenny. I just wanted to give you something."

"My three missing packs of Marlboros?"

"Uhh….no." He pulled a medium sized package from behind his back, it was wrapped in purple paper.

A present?

I looked at him like something was off. No one gives me gifts. Not even my own parents.

He held it out with this big cute smile, I couldn't say no to that even if I tried. Hesitantly, I took the package from him. It was squishy, some kind of fabric inside. I looked up at Butters who was looking excited.

"Go on, open it!" he cheered.

Hesitant still, I slowly ripped the paper open, trying to ignore the holes that were being burned into my back by Craig and Christophe.

I was a black hoodie. A zip up, thick and soft, warm material. It must have cost a pretty penny. I looked back up at him, astounded. His face was red.

"Y-your other sweatshirt was falling apart. I thought you'd like a new one."

I actually wanted to cry. I couldn't believe it. It was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for me.

"T-thank you Butters. This…this is…" Amazing, saintly…

"Very nice of you." I slipped it over my arms. It warmed me instantly. Damn thing was magic or something…

If it was even possible, his face lit up even more.

"I'm glad you like it! Oh shoot!" he looked at his cellphones clock.

"The teacher must be wondering where I am. I gotta get back. See ya after school Kenny!"

"Y-yeah, see ya." I waved, still dumbfounded, as he scampered off. My face felt hot.

"Damn McCormick, got your girlfriend knitting you a sweater now?"

"Fuck off Craig" I snapped.

This sweatshirt felt so warm. I felt secure…

Gay gay gay gay gay.

"So how's it going with little buttercup?" Dammit Craig, you just won't quit will you?

That's it. I faked a big annoying smile.

"as well as you and Tweeky, of course." His face turned red and he looked away.

"T-theres nothing going on between me and Tweek."

"Right. And there's nothing going on with Butters and I; so can it."

Silence, finally. I finished my cigarette and tossed it onto the ground and crushed it under my shoe.

"You two ez both stupid, non?" We looked at him.

"What the hell are you talking about Mole?"

He inhaled again, obviously in no rush to explain. After he exhaled, he looked over and spoke again.

"I 'ave seen you McCormick with thee small blonde boy. It ez quite obvious he iz en love wit you. " I blushed. It was true, but no one ever had the balls to point it out.

"And Tucker, I see de way you are around de Twitchy blonde. You two are very close no?" Now it was Craigs turn to be caught off guard.

"Well yeah. We've known each other forever. We're best friends." Another drag, this time, the smoke came out his nostrals again. He had that all knowing glint in his eyes.

"But it zeems you are wanting more dan dat, am I wrong?"

"No..i mean yes…I mean…" Craig stuttered, giving himself away. I barked a laugh.

Craig's gay for Tweek. Who'd have thought? Actually, after I thought about it a little, it kind of made sense. Craig was so protective of Tweek. I couldn't even begin to count all the fights and confrontations Craig had gotten into on Tweek's behalf. He was always coming around with bruises and black eyes, obviously from brutal fights. He acted like he couldn't care less about anything, except when It came to Tweek. Everyone could see it, I often wondered if Tweek could. Hell, I wondered if Craig could.

"You two ez complete idiotz if you cannot zee what ez right in front of you."

Another inhale. Exhale.

"Dis whole school ez, how do you say…a flaming sossage fest?" I almost fell over.

"Not everyone here is gay, Mole."

"Almost everyone."

"No.

"Broflovski ez, as well az his ex girlfriend."

"No way!"

"You don't believe me? Tiz ezy to see."

"Is that why Kyle and Bebe broke up?" I asked.

"Perhaps. Vat do I know? I ez just de Mole."

I looked at Craig, who in turn looked at me. We didn't know what to say, or how to respond to this information. Christophe was completely unfazed, naturally.

Craig moved his gaze far off into the distance, in some deep thought. I joined him until the bell rang.

Time to go back to the world.

I'm going to try and update soon, but it may be a bit. Review! Bebe 's next!

Mariah


	8. Sexual Tension Stan

A/N: ok, this chapter is going to be short, and then it will lead to a semi- long one. Bear with me.

Chapter 8 Sexual Tension

~Stan~

"Craig and Tweek did WHAAT?!"

"Craig and Tweek were behind the school making out. I saw them in gym yesterday."

"No shit!" I couldn't believe it. Craig and Tweek? Was everyone in this school switching teams?!

Damn…Must be something in the water…

Kyle leaned forward on the lunch table as he spoke.

"No I'm serious! I never would have though." Kenny didn't say anything. He seemed distracted, and was sporting a new sweatshirt. He refused to tell us where he got it. I hate to say it, but he probably stole it. Kenny does things like that sometimes.

Kyle stood up and grabbed his food tray. Then strutted off to go get rid of it, his tight jeans framing his cute ass…

WOAH! Not again!

Ever since Kyle came out to me, our friendship didn't really change. But shortly afterwards I began noticing Kyle in a completely different way. A way that kind of scared me. His hands, his eyes, his backside…it was awkward on my part. Fortunately, Kyle has yet to notice.

I rested my head on the lunch table. What the hell was wrong with me?"

"Dude, Bebe's talking to Kyle." Kenny whispered. I lifted my head and turned around.

They kind of looked like they were arguing. Bebe was in hysterics, but I couldn't hear what they were saying. Kyle was making hand gestures and his mouth was going a mile a minute. He pulled Bebe into a hug and escorted her out of the cafeteria.

That's when Wendy showed up. She looked pale and startled when she sat beside me.

"Wendy?" She looked up at me.

"Are you oka-" She smashed her lips into mine so hard I almost fell off my seat.

It wasn't soft, like her kisses normally were. This was harder, rougher, like she was trying to prove something.

When she pulled away and saw my baffled expression, she turned red.

"H-Hi Stan."

"Hey, what was that all about?" She shrugged.

"Just missed you I guess." It made me feel guilty for having these dirty thoughts about my best friend while she loves me so much.

Did I love her? Sure I did. Am I "In love" with her though?

I watched Kyle comfort a distressed Bebe though a window in the cafeteria.

I wasn't so sure anymore.


	9. I Kissed A Girl Bebe&Wendy

Okay…if anyone's willing to make a summery for this story can you please? The one I have quite frankly, sucks. Whoever does come up with a good one I will mention them…somehow… Help?

Here's chapter 9 everyone. Bebe and Wendy.

Chapter 9:

~Bebe~

I have never been so scared before in my entire life.

Kyle was my safety net. We started "Going out" so we could both figure ourselves out without being interrogated about our sexuality, and with the way people have been coming out lately, it's not surprised everyone is on a witch hunt to expose. Kyle needed it, and I did too.

Wendy and I haven't always been BFFs, you know. Up until second grade she couldn't stand me. She ignored me, until one day towards the end of second grade…

~Flashback~

"_EY! You girl! Get off the shwings!" _

"_Yea! It's our shwings! No dumb girls allowed!" Little Craig Tucker, Clyde Donovan and Eric Cartman stood around little 7-year old Wendy, who was sitting on one of the two tiny swings. Craig and Clyde claimed rights to the swings, and Cartman was trying to charge people admission, but it didn't work out too well._

_Wendy stood up._

"_My daddy says the playground belongs to every-oof!" Craig pushed her onto her backside._

"_Dumb girl. Get lost." He growled._

_Wendy's big deer-like brown eyes began to well up. She started to cry._

"_Hey you big dummies!" A small girl with curly blonde hair and a red jumper stepped forward from the side._

"_Leave her alone you bully! The shwings are for everyone! You can't just hog them all to yourself!" The boys approached her, planning to shove her too. The girl leaned down and grabbed a handful of ice and snow, then chucked it into Craig's face!_

_The boy howled and screamed and started to cry. His lip was bleeding. Clyde didn't know what to do, so he started crying as well. They ran off past a boy with black hair throwing a football to the local Jewish kid. _

"_Catch Kyle! Catch!" The redhead had missed. _

_The blonde girl, victorious, got down to check on little Wendy._

"_Are you ok?" She asked. Wendy sniffed and held up her hand. The palm had been scraped in the fall. Bebe pressed her lips against the small scrape, then pulled away nad held out her hand._

"_Common, I'll take you to the nurse."_

~Flashback~

And now…now I was in love with her.

I didn't realize it was happening until recently, when she got back together with Stan over Thanksgiving break for the 40th time around. I resented Stan violently, but when I started dating Kyle, I had to be around him all the time. I played nice, sure. But I couldn't stand watching him kiss her. Touch her. It wasn't fair; he didn't deserve her.

Kyle wanted to be with Stan, I knew that from the start. But he didn't want to be gay. He tried to fight it, and I did too. I must have slept with a dozen guys in an attempt to make my feelings go away. We both tried so hard to fight it; I didn't want to be gay either.

It sucks that you really can't change who you are.

Finally, we realized what we are, and ended the charade completely. 

Kyle has yet to talk to Stan, as far as I know. But it was defiantly my time to talk to Wendy.

I had texted her during Chemistry, asking her to meet me on the stairs outside of the cafeteria during lunch.

I couldn't breathe, and I paced in circles, smoothing my red jean skirt and fixed my frizzy pinned blonde hair over and over again like a compulsive weirdo. Every possible scenario ran through my head; everything from her accepting what I have to say and loving me back to her rejecting me completely and never speaking to me again.

I _really_ hope it's the former.

"Hey Bebe!" There she was; I couldn't run anymore. She smiled at me in a purple sweater and dark blue jean mini skirt with her matching beret and pumps. Her hair still passed her waist in midnight silk.

God, she was beautiful.

"H-hey Wendy." I waved weakly. This was it. No backing out now.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" She seemed so bright. Happy. _My own little light_.

"Well...uhh...I...Uh..." Common Bebe, just blurt it out.

"Kyle's gay!" _Not that you retard!_

""What?! Are you sure?"

"Y-yeah." _Shit, way to go dumbass. You just exposed Kyle's secret! After everything he did for you! You promised you wouldn't! Stupid stupid stupid…_

"Wow." She cocked her hip. "I kind of thought so. Even when he was with you, he didn't seem right." 

"Wendy…Kyle's being gay wasn't the only reason we broke up." She looked kind of confused, so I continued, pulling on the sleeves of my Abercrombie and Fitch long sleeved red shirt.

Goodbye Wendy. I love you.

"I am too." Her eyes got big.

"Oh…Okay Bebe. That's fine. It's not wrong. I don't have a problem with it." She put a hand on my shoulder. "When did you figure this out?"

"A while ago…I…I fell in love." I looked up, trying to bore my meaning into her, hoping she wouldn't make me say it, hoping that she'd understand.

I saw a spark behind her eyes. Realization? Anger? Disgust?

"Oh…well…um…" She pulled her hand away from me. _She's figured it out_.

"I'm glad you've figured this out Bebe. Uhh…I promised Stan that I'd meet him after I finished talking to you, so I'll just-"She turned around to leave, but I grabbed her wrist.

"Wendy, wait!"

She was biting her lip.

I couldn't think; I just acted.

I pulled on her wrist to make her turn around, then, without hesitation, pressed my lips against hers.

She didn't move when I kissed her at first, or when I put my arms around her waist.

But then I felt her arms snake around d my neck, and she caved into my body while her lips moved against mine.

She was kissing me back!

I thought, maybe, she had feelings for me after all…

Then, she shoved me away.

She pushed me back, hard, making my designer pumps click as I stumbled. I could still taste her favorite Victoria's Secret bubblegum lip-gloss.

"Bebe! What do you think you're doing?!"

_I'm going to lose her!_

"Wendy! I'm so sorry! I just-" I reached out, but she pulled away from me.

"I…I have to go. I'm sorry." She ran away before I could utter another word in my defense.

"Wendy…" Hot tears leaked out of my eyes, smearing my Cover girl eyeliner and mascara.

_I lost her. I lost everything._

~Wendy~

Schedule for Thursday

AP English

AP History

AP Math

Lunch (Meeting with Bebe)

Honors Science

Psychology A

Chorus

Student Council Meeting

Plan Animal Rights Rally for next month

Dinner with Family

Get psychology notes from Kyle B.

Date with Stan 3

_Damn I'm busy today. I'm going to have to make my meeting with Bebe quick so that I can get some Student Council work in during lunch._

I didn't mean to be so busy all the time. I just was. I was always running, always working on two or three projects at a time. It was a lot of work, but I liked it. It kept me busy, and from getting involved in drama and school problems. When I saw Bebe she looked nervous and anxious. Part of me wondered if she wanted to get back with Kyle again or maybe that Clyde was sending her sexual texts again.

When she spoke, she shuddered.

"I'm gay too." I didn't expect her to say that. I certainly did not see it coming. She was very promiscuous when we were younger, but after she got with Kyle, she stopped completely. I deduced that maybe Kyle was enough and changed that about her, but maybe…

"I fell in love." Oh no. She couldn't possibly mean that…

"I'm glad you've figured this out Bebe. Uhh…I promised Stan that I'd meet him after I finished talking to you, so I'll just-" I tried to run. I couldn't let Bebe ruin our friendship this way! I needed her. She grabbed my wrist and turned me around. Then next thing I knew, she was kissing me!

I didn't know what to do, and I didn't understand why I was started to kiss her back.

I liked it.

But it was so wrong.

We were best friends; practically sisters, and both girls.

I pushed her back.

"Bebe! What do you think you're doing?!" Her blue eyes bugged out.

"Wendy! I'm so sorry! I just-" I needed to get away. I couldn't breathe.

"I…I have to go. I'm sorry." I turned and ran into the cafeteria and found Stan, sitting with Kenny McCormick. I grabbed him and kissed him hard. Good. I still like it.

"What was that about Wendy?" He asked me. I shrugged, not wanting to tell him what happened.

"Oh, just missed you I guess." He smiled and looked in another direction.

I couldn't get Bebe out of my mind. She avoided me, and the first few times I caught a glimpse of her, her eyes were red and glossy. I didn't know what to do.

I never considered Bebe in that way. I've been with Stan off and on since I was eight years old, and between those I've been with Token. I've never been single long enough to look around…

I looked at Stan smiling at me, and I returned the smile. We were on the rocks a lot lately, fighting about everything…no I couldn't possibly be…

I'm straight. Completely, utterly, heterosexual, done.

But after that kiss…

I don't I feel as confident with this statement as I used to.

~End of chapter.


	10. Far From Here Craig&Tweek

Chapter 10

~Tweek~

We knew that if Craig's parents found out what was going on between us, his father would literally kill him. As much as we didn't want to sneak around, we couldn't stay away from each other in that sense now that we knew how we felt for each other, so we had almost no choice. We hid mostly at my house, since my parents were working 12 hours a day at their coffee shop and if they happened to catch us, I knew they probably wouldn't care much.

I guess Craig didn't believe that I liked him back, because at first, he wouldn't make a move unless I'd advance first. After awhile, he took up control, and ended up actually being the dominating one, which I liked a lot better.

I knew Craig had issues with trust and letting people get close. Clyde and I were the only ones that could ever even get a small glimpse of what was in Craig's head. He was always so stoic and secretive; no wonder I didn't know about his father until he told me.

He was careful with me, pretty hesitant. It wasn't like he wasn't like this before we got together, because he always treated me like I was breakable, but now it was different because I had something precious to him that he didn't want to risk losing.

His heart and his hope.

Maybe he just didn't realize that he had mine as well.

It didn't take long for us to become comfortable with each physically. Making out and heavy petting was never an issue when we were alone. At school we stole moments whenever we could. He practically lived at my house because he hated his own, and his father…well…you get the idea.

One day, Craig was halfway through making a hickey on my shoulder when his cell phone rang. "The End" by Linkon Park blasted from his jeans pocket, and he groaned when he pulled away to answer it.

"Probably Clyde looking for weed again…" He muttered when he put the phone up to his ear.

"What?" He grunted. Craig gets cranky when we're interrupted. I watched his facial expression as he listened to the rapid chatter on the other line. His face went from blank annoyance to panic. He gently lifted me from my spot on his lap and stood up.

"Calm down Suzie…I…listen to me. I want you to go into…Suzie stop crying…Go into my room and hide…the closet…you know…yes. I'll be there in five…Yes…I promise."

He hung up.

"I have to go, Tweek." My dad's up to his old shit again." I stood up as well.

"I want to come with you?" He shook his head.

"No way. I'm not letting you get in the middle of this."

"Craig, your dad's _crazy_! What if he-" Craig raised a hand in defense.

"I can take a hit, Tweek. You know that."

"But you shouldn't have to! Especially by your own goddamn _father_!"

"I know that! But there's nothing I can do! I can't let Suzie and my mom get hurt! And I'd rather die than let my dad lay a hand on you even _once_." His hands gripped m y shoulders when he spoke to me, although firmly, obviously scared.

"Over anyone else, I don't know what I'd do if I lost you." I put one of my hands over his before he could pull away.

"You're not going to lose me Craig."

"I don't want to take that chance."

He kissed me again, twice, before turning.

"I'll see you at school tomorrow Tweek." And with that, he ran out the door.

Craig didn't come to school that next day.

I was terrified, shaking even with the medication. And the text I had gotten around noon from him didn't help too much either.

"Tweekers. I'm fine. Will B in skool 2marrow. Promise. Craig"

Lately, the more Craig tries to reassure me, the more worried I get. I know I'm weak, but the least he could let me do was sit outside in his car. That way, when the fur starts flying, I could call the police and catch Mr. Tucker in the act.

Craig assures me it's nothing he can't handle. But what he said when we first got together still rang in my mind…

"_Most days when you think I'm skipping, I'm actually in so much pain, I…I can't get out of bed."_

_Dammit Craig, why can't you just let me help?_ I couldn't help but think to myself. I contemplated going to Craig's house right after school. I knew his father didn't get home until about 6 PM. That was plenty of time but…

"_I don't want to take that chance."_

I eventually came to a compromise. I called him.

Several tries later, he finally picks up.

"Yeah?" He sounded groggy. Was he getting high again?

"Craig?"

"Tweek?!" Wow that sobered him up a bit.

"What's up?" He sounded so out of it.

"Why weren't you in school?"

"I skipped."

"You know you can't use that excuse with me anymore Craig."

"I know…" Silence. A Sigh.

"I was in the hospital last night." My breathing hitched.

"What happened?!"

"I'll tell you tomorrow… I can't really talk about it right now."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Tell the truth."

"I _am_."

"I don't believe you."

"Don't you trust me?" He asked.

"With my life."

"Then why-"

"_**Because**_ Craig!" I didn't want to yell; it wasn't me. He sighed again. I copied him and tried to calm down.

"You can't keep hiding things from me."

"I know. I'm sorry Tweek…I have to go. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Promise?"

"I promise." He hung up, and I managed to relax a little. One thing I knew about Craig was that he never broke his promises.

By the time I had gotten to Craig's locker there was a small crowd surrounding it.

"Tucker,what the hell happened to you?!"

"How'd you manage to do that?"

"Fight with Orange County again?" 

"Street fighting? That's illegal!"

"It's underground. No one ever catches 'em."

I pushed by the spectators to see Craig, with his arm in a sling.

I think he was trying to hide it; it was partially shrouded under his jacket. He didn't look like he cared that much, but I knew better. That damn façade…

"Craig!" I rushed up to him, but then turned to face the crowd. I couldn't talk to him with them there.

"G-get lost." Shit, stutter. They looked like they didn't even hear me.

"You heard him, get lost! Nothing to see here! Move it! Get to your classes!" Kenny? Since when did Kenny stand up for me?

He pushed the crowd away and winked at me before he left with the dispersing group; I didn't get it.

I looked up at Craig. He had seen Kenny's wink and now looked aggravated.

But that could be delt with later.

"How bad is it?" Craig shut his open locker his unharmed hand.

"Doctor said it was something called a spiral fracture. It's broken in two places, and a hairline fracture somewhere else. "

"Ouch. Does he know how you got it?"

"He asked, but I didn't really answer him."

"Doesn't he have to file some kind of report?"

"I don't know." I looked around to make sure everyone was gone, then I tenderly touched the sling. The cast on his arm was hard.

"I'm getting a waterproof one later this week. Black; it's gonna be cool."

"Does it hurt?" I asked. He shrugged.

"Not right now. They have me on a lot of pain meds." I could tell; his eyes were sort of glassed over.

I pulled out a dark blue inky pen and gently grabbed his arm.

"What are you doing?" At an angle that no one would be able to see except him, I wrote;

Tweek (Heart)

"Thanks" He gave me a small smile before leaning forward and kissed my lips before pulling me into a hug and then kissing the top of my head.

I didn't notice it before I started taking my medication again, but Craig had the saddest look in his eyes all the time. A longing shimmer in those gray pools.

I've needed Craig for as long as I could remember. I needed him for protection, support, acceptance…

Love.

I rely on Craig for everything.

Now it's his turn to rely on me.

I _cannot_ let him down.


	11. Halfway Gone Kyle

Chapter 11 Halfway Gone

~Kyle~

I went to Kenny's house after school today.

He was shuffling around the house, and I knew he had to be at work for 3:30. It was about 3:10; we have maybe fifteen minutes to talk.

"Kenny! I need some help here!" I said to him, leaning on his kitchen table.

"I'm bust Kyle. I have to make dinner for Karrie. What's this all about?" He said from the other side of the kitchen, digging though a cabinet.

"Dammit, I need to go shopping again."

"All out?"

"Yeah. Mom still can't find a job."

"I think my dad's looking for a secretary. No physical work. Want me to put a word in?" he looked over at me.

"You'd do that?'

"Sure." He smiled. Kenny always looked so tired nowadays. Juggling school, work, _and _taking care of his family must be difficult.

"Thanks man. That means a lot." He smiled. Kenny was a good guy.

After looking through the cabinets again, he sighed and pulled a $20 dollar bill out of his oil stained jeans.

"Karrie! Get yo bum down here!" He hollered. A few moments later, a small 11 year old girl came down the stairs. She was wearing a sweater that I recognized to be Kenny's when we were younger.

"Yeah Ken?" She had dirty blonde hair and big blue eyes. She looked a lot like her brother. Kenny held up the $20.

"You guys order pizza tonight, okay?" Her eyes lit up.

"Really Ken?!" She ran over and hugged him. He hugged her back and kissed the top of her head.

"Yeah. I gotta go to work now. I'll be home at 10." He kneeled down to her eye level and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Eat at least two pieces, get me?" She nodded eagerly, then jumped and hugged him again.

"Good." He stood up and ruffled her hair. "10 o'clock. Be in bed by 9. Behave." He motioned for me to follow and we went out the front door.

A few minutes of nothing but the snow crunching under our, feet. I thought about what I had seen.

"So you take care of everyone, huh Ken?" He looked at me, then down to his work boots.

"Someone has to. Mom's been trying. But like I said, She gets sick a lot."

"And your dad…?

"Worthless piece of shit. I hope he passes out in a drunken stupor and never wakes up. Life would be so much easier."

I stopped walking.

"That's a nasty thing to say Ken." He stopped too, but he didn't turn around.

"It's true. He's a free loader; not worth anything. Steals my money and beats us, yells at us. He's not worth my kindness.

"Kenny…He hits you?"

"Sometimes." I caught up the distance between us and put a hand on his shoulder. 

"Maybe you should tell someone."

"They'll take Karrie and me away, and then separate us. I can't allow that."

"Then what do you plan to do?"

"My mom...It's too late for her. She won't leave; she can't. And Kevin doesn't care enough. But Karrie and I…we could make it."

"What do you mean?"

"I've been saving my money. A little bit every chance I get…extra shifts at the garage, and sometimes I help out at the Peppermint Hippo. As soon as I save enough, I'm taking Karrie and we're leaving."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing/

"Kenny that's crazy! Where would you go?!"

"I've got some friends in Denver. They can help me."

"You two won't survive out there!"

"We won't survive _here_!"

Silence.

"I don't want you to leave Ken." He sighed.

"I'd hate to leave you guys. You and Stan and…_Butters_, but I don't have a choice."

"You can wait until you're 18. My dad can help you get custody of Karrie and-"

"They won't give her to me, and I can't wait till I'm 18."

"It's just a year-"

"Do you know what can happen in _just a year_?!" I pulled away, startled.

"You don't know what happens at my house, Kyle. What me and Karrie have to go through every day…its hell, and I….I just can't wait anymore. I just can't. Karrie…she deserves so much better. She deserves loving parents and three meals a day." He paused.

"He calls her ugly, fat, stupid, a whore. When we actually _do_ have food, I can't get her to eat! She's depressed and lost and….she's too _young_ for that Kyle."

"I'm so sorry Ken. I didn't know. I'll help any way I can. "

"I won't take handouts Kyle. You know me better than that."

"They won't be handouts. I'll…I'll pay you."

"For what?"

"To help me get with something I need. I'll pay you every week you help me. So…you'll be doing _me_ a favor."

I watched him think about it. It wasn't a handout or charity; it was just another job for him.

"Common Ken, I actually need your help."

"With what?"

"I want to find out if Stan is gay."

He chuckled.

"He's dating Wendy retard, or did you forget?"

"I know they are, but they've been on the rocks for awhile now and… I think there's something there. I just want to make sure…." 

"Dude, we all know you've wanted to bang Stan since, like, third grade. Stop pretending this is all simple curiosity."

Oh my god. Did he just…. How did he-?

"N-That's not true at all!" My face felt hot.

"Really, it's been obvious even when you were with Bebe."

"That's bullshit!"

"So have you ever wacked off to-"

"Kenny!"

"Aha, chill Kyle. I don't get to joke around much anymore." He reached over and ruffled my hair, like I was some kind. People often did that because of my size. Cartman jokes that I look like a girl.

"Gimme a break dude."

Poor Kenny; He had to grow up so fast. His eyes seemed aged; he treated everyone like they were younger than him. Not in a bad way, more like the kind of protective father or older brother, much like he plays at home.

I don't think he's acted like a kid since elementary school.

Poor guy.

"So will you help me?" I asked, fixing my hair. He shoved his hands into his pocket.

"I guess. But can you do something for me too?"

"uh, ok. What?"

"I need you to convince Butters to stop hanging out with me."

"What? Why?! I though you two were close?"

"We are, that's the problem. I have a lot going on right now, and I don't want Butters getting involved."

"What's going on?"

"I just…" He sighed. "I just have a lot going on right now, financially and personally. Butters will just get hurt."

"Dude, Butters….he really cares about you. Doing that would kill him."

"Hanging around with me may get him killed for _real_."

"Kenny, what kind of shit have you gotten yourself into?"

"That's none of your concerns Kyle. He chuckled again. "Hell, it's not like they can _kill me,_ right?"

"Kenny…" I heard a beeping noise, and Kenny looked at his work pager.

"Shit, I'm late. Just…tell Butters, ok? Tell him I'm sorry." I nodded, knowing I couldn't carry the conversation on any longer.

"Okay." Kenny ran ahead of me. I waved slowly. He was so cryptic nowadays. So secretive…

Sweet Moses, what the hell is Kenny hiding?


	12. The Garden Of Everything Kenny

Chapter 12: The Garden Of Everything

~Kenny~

The lights were blinding.

Why were they so bright?

There were sweaty guys around us, watching me. Watching him, making bets and wagers. We were only there for their amusement…and a large cut of the money if we win.

He swings at me; I dodge, and punch back. Hit. Blood gushes from his nose. He grunts. I punch again; he dodges and knees me in the stomach. I fall down. I taste blood in my mouth.

"Common Immorty! Let's go!" Clyde calls from the crowd.

Immorty: short for Immortal. A bad alias I had when I went to these fights. Yes, underground fights. I don't know how many I've been in exactly, but I remember when I got involved for the first time.

It was Clyde, Craig and Cartman who ended up dragging me along one day.

"Common dude! It's wicked sick!"

The days began to melt together, and eventually I stopped watching fights, and ended up being a part of them. It consists of people like me, and rich investors. Underground associations, gangs, and big shots. They throw a lot of money around at these things, and 5 or 6 grand is nothing to sneeze at. After I landed my job at the garage, I stopped for awhile, but now I'm back more than ever.

~Flashback~

"_Son, can I talk to you for a moment?" _

_Karrie and I sat in the Hell's Pass Hospital's waiting room. Mom was getting a checkup again; she's always getting sick, which is why she couldn't work. I had no problem supporting her and Karrie. Kevin and my dad however, they were on their fucking own._ _I patted Karrie's head and followed the doctor into his office. He sat down at his desk and folded his hands._

"_Take a seat son." I obeyed._

"_Kenneth, was it?"_

"_Kenny, actually."_

"_Right. Kenny, how old are you?"_

"_17."_

"_You're almost an adult."_

"_I guess." _

_The doctor took off the wireframe glasses he was wearing and set them down._

"_Where's your father Kenny?"_

"_My parents are in the middle of a separation sir."_

"_You seem very smart." I shrugged; I didn't think so._

"_Kenny, have you ever heard of Common Variable Immune Deficiency?"_

"_No."_

"_It is a disorder characterized by low levels of serum immunoglobulins (antibodies) and an increased susceptibility to infections, you see. The degree and type of deficiency of serum immunoglobulins, and the clinical course, varies from patient to patient, hence, the word "variable." In some patients, there is a decrease in both IgG and IgA; in others, all three major types (IgG, IgA and IgM) of immunoglobulins may be decreased."_

"_Okay, does mom have that?"_

"_Unfortunately. I know you're still a minor, but your mother insists you have power of attorney and finances over her."_

"_I will in a few weeks."_

"_Do you have health insurance?"_

"_No. Is there treatment for this?"_

"_Yes, but it's not cheap son."_

"_How much?"_

"_Maybe we can get some kind of-"_

"_How much, doctor?_"

"_About $15,000 for the first six months."_

"_I can pay for it."_

"_Son, do you realize how much money-"_

"_Stop calling me 'son'! And I said I can pay for it!"_

"_How can you possibly \come up with that kind of money!"_

"_I just can! How long until I have to pay for it?"_

"_Six months from when she starts. For the full year it will have doubled to $30,000."_

"_I'll take care of it."_

"_Her chances…" I walked out of the room and slammed the door behind me. I couldn't listen anymore._ _$30,000. That's way too much money. That's almost my entire yearly income, if I was doing the math right. That might not have been a big deal…if it wasn't our only source of money._

_When I stepped out of the office, I borrowed some paper and a calculator from the secretary and did out the math. I could pay it off this year, but it would leave us ten months without any income. We couldn't survive on that. Maybe some kind of payment plan…they have those, right?_

_I dropped the paper and put my head in m y hands. I was 17, I couldn't do this on my own…_ _Something touched my knee. _

_I looked over to see Karrie holding the paper I was scribbling on. She was 12, but she wasn't stupid._

"_Is momma gonna die?" I stared at her, looking startled, I know I know I did. Then I smiled and patted her head._

"_Of course not. There's no way I'd let my little sis grow up without her mom. Don't worry; I'll take care of everything." She smiled her little shy smile._ _The problem was, I didn't know if I was telling the truth, or lying through my teeth._

~Flashback over~

So that's where I was left; desperate for cash and desperate for a way to get it. I punch the guy again, this time when he falls, he doesn't get back up. Win for me. Win for Immorty…yeah…

A man raised my bleeding fist to show my victory. Cheers, applauses. They're happy, or maybe too drunk to be anything but. I watch my opponent lay on the floor, forgotten by everyone except his team. Jeremy was his name.

I wonder if any of these jerk offs would actually care what happens to us fighters.

No one's concerned about Immorty, because Immorty always comes back.

I always come back.


	13. Already Gone Stan EDITED FOR MISTAKES

Chapter 13: Already Gone

~Stan~

It seemed no matter what I did, I couldn't make Wendy happy. She seemed edgy and distant, which was so unlike her. She ditched Bebe; I hadn't seen her in a few weeks. Kyle said she and Wendy were fighting, but didn't give many details.

I guess this fight is what was causing Wendy's erratic behavior. She demanded my attention and time constantly, and she got mad when I would try to go hang out with Kyle instead of her.

"She's driving me crazy!" I cried out, falling backwards onto Kyle's bed. I was hiding out after avoiding her all day. I didn't know what to do.

"C'mon Stan. Wendy's always been like this. You knew that when you started dating her for the first time. Why do you keep going back?"

"I thought I loved her."

"Thought?"

"Yeah. Well…She was so pretty and smart and now…now I'm barely attracted to her at all."

"Maybe you should talk to her about this."

I rolled over to face Kyle, who was cross legged in his spinney computer chair. The guy was actually small enough to do that. With his dark green skinny jeans and zip up sweatshirt with the sleeves rolled up, I'm surprised I never picked up any gay vibes from him; he practically screams it now. But Kyle was Kyle, and he's always been that way.

"What's there left to talk about Kyle? I mean, I love her, but I'm just not, you know, _into _her anymore."

"Is that even possible? Wendy's gorgeous, even I know that."

"Of course she is. She's hot. But…I don't know."

"Well dude, sometimes your feelings for people can get stronger, and sometimes they can get weaker."

"You think that might be what's going on?" He shrugged.

"It could Stan. It happens all the time, especially in high school. Pretty soon, you might move on to somebody else." 

I sighed. Kyle was right, as usual. It looked like I was going to have to talk to Wendy…

My cellphone began to ring in my pocket. A call? From who?

I answered, and immediately wished I hadn't.

"STANLEY RICHARD MARSH!" Oh no. Wendy.

"uh, hey wends…"

"Don't 'hey Wends' Me! Where the hell were you today!"

"At Kyle's."

"Kyle's?"

"Yeah, what of it?"

"Stan! You were supposed to pick me up!"

"When did I tell you I was going to do that?"

"You should have known-"

"So you didn't tell me. How was I supposed to know?"

"I had to get a ride home with Cartman!"

"That sucks."

"Yeah it did! Stan, what the hell?"

"Wendy…" I looked over at Kyle, who had a confused and worried expression on his face. I can't fight with her in front of Kyle, it wouldn't be right.

"Wendy, I don't want to fight. Can we meet up and talk about this?"

There was a pause.

"Sure Stan. That's probably a good idea. Why don't you come over?"

"Alright. I'll be there in 10."

"Bye Stan."

"Bye." I hung up and groaned as I rolled off the bed.

"What's going on?" Kyle asked me, starting to stand up.

"It's Wendy. I'm going to go meet up with her."

"Why?" I grabbed my backpack and slung it over my shoulder.

"To take care of this once and for all." As I walked out the door in my determined stride, I heard Kyle say quietly:

"Be gentle." I nodded, even though he couldn't see me.

South Park was such a small town; everyone's house was within walking distance.

As I walked the two streets to Wendy's, I passed by Butter's house to see him swinging on a little tire swing with a sad face. I'd have to remember to talk to him later.

I also went by Tweek's place. Craig was running out

Of the house and booked it in my opposite direction. Part of me wondered where he was heading.

Up in the second story window was Tweek, apprehensively biting his lip. Tweek and Craig seemed to always be together nowadays, I wondered how Clyde felt about that…

Wendy's house came into view, and so did she. She was standing outside in the cold air, wrapped in a light purple cashmere sweater. When she saw me, she smiled.

"Stan!" She called. I sighed, and trudged up the stairs. This was going to be difficult.

We stepped inside, Wendy had moved the arm chair in her living room to face the couch. Obviously she thought this was going to end well.

"Come sit down. I have the kettle going, want some tea? Or maybe soda? Since I almost forgot you don't care for the stuff. Maybe-"

"Wendy." She looked back over at me and her smile dropped. This was serious; our relationship was falling apart, and she knew it. She wanted to hang onto it as well, I thought.

"Right." She said, then sat on the love seat couch and patted the arm chair.

"Come sit down Stan." I did, hunching my back and resting my forearms on my legs.

"Wendy, why have you been so crazy lately?"

"I haven't been crazy."

"Different, then."

"I haven't-"

"_**Yes,**_ you have." Pause.

"Is this about Bebe?" I pressed.

"Bebe?"

"Kyle said you two were fighting."

"That's not what's going on."

"Then what is it?"

"I can't tell you."

"Why not?"

"Because it's private."

"Too private for me?"

"…I don't know."

"Fine. I'll ask Kyle."

"I think you should stay away from Kyle."

"What?"

"I don't like how he looks at you."

"I don't like how the male population looks at you." She bit her lip.

"Seriously Stan."

"I _am_ serious, Wendy."

"You always ditching me for him."

"No I don't."

"Yes you do."

"He's my best friend, Wendy. He's going through some crap right now."

"I know. Bebe told me."

"Bebe?"

"Kyle likes you."

"What do you mean?"

"He wants me out of the picture."

"That's not true!"

"Think about it Stan!"

"That's not cool Wends."

"It's true!"

"Did Bebe tell you this? Is that what you guys are righting?" Wendy jumped up.

"Bebe's a freaking lesbian that doesn't know where the lines are drawn!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Nothing!" She turned and started to run up the stairs. Oh no, she's not getting away that easily. I ran up behind her and grabbed her arm then jerked her around.

"Why are you and Bebe fighting like this?"

"None of your business!"

"It is if it's affecting you and me!"

"She _kissed _me!" Silence.

"W-what?" She looked down.

"Yeah."

"When did this happen?"

"A few weeks ago."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because it was none of your business!" She was yelling now, and so was I.

"Someone kissing my girlfriend isn't my business?"

"Sometimes I wonder if I'm your girlfriend at all!"

"What are you talking about?"

"You show Kyle more affection then me!"

"That's bullshit!"

"Are you gay Stan? Is that what's been going on?"

"What the fuck Wendy!"

"Are you?"

"Are _you_?" The anger was rising in my chest.

"I…We're not discussing me."

"Funny, I thought we were!"

"I want you to stay away from Kyle!"

"You have no right to tell me who I can hang out with!"

I should! I'm your girlfriend!"

I couldn't take it.

"Not anymore you're not! We're through!"

I turned to the door and stopped out, slamming it behind me. By the time I made it halfway to Kyle's and my anger started to dwell did it truly hit me.

I ended it. It was over.

Not really how I intended the conversation to go.

But it was for the better….right?

When I made it to Kyle's, I sat down on his front steps and put my head in my hands.

I cared about her, but I didn't love her anymore. It hurt to see her go…

I felt small hands on my tight bicep, and I looked over to see Kyle smiling sympathetically at me. He handed me one of those gay little pocket things of tissues. I guess he figured it out.

"I'm sorry man." Was all he said.

The next week without Wendy kinda blurred together. But I felt better, if that made any sense. I felt like a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders.

"Stan! Look what I got!" Kyle bounced over to me and held out a white piece of paper. It was an invite to Token Black's latest party.

I raised an eyebrow.

"you do realize there's gonna be recreational drugs at this right?"

"Yeah."

"Like E and weed and coke

"Yeah. It'll still be fun."

"I don't know…"

"Stan, you need to get out. You've been moping for days."

"ehhh…"

"Please?"

"Ahh fine."

The problem was that I didn't trust myself alone with Kyle while drunk or high, and if Wendy was right, I didn't trust him either.

Meaning one of us is going to have to stay sober the entire time.

This is going to suck.

Okay…if anyone's willing to make a summery for this story can you please? The one I have quite frankly, sucks. Whoever does come up with a good one I will mention them…somehow… Help?


	14. Over and Over Kenny&Butters

A/N: Okay, I know the last chapter was a fail. The grammar and punctuation was horrible, yeah yeah. I have a semi-good excuse for that. You'd have trouble typing too if your boyfriend and your best guy friend decided to distract you the entire time…yes awkward. Oh well.

Chapter 14 "Over and Over"

~Kenny~

Ouch.

God, I hate bruises.

I had a nasty purple one on my temple from my last brawl, and it _killed_.

Part of me wished I had died in that fight, then at least id come back without a scratch.

"Kenny..." Oh shit. I didn't more from my locker, my back facing the owner of the voice.

"Kenny." The voice said more sternly, and I finally turned to him. Butters. He looked upset and angry, and I knew I was the cause.

"Why-" He started, but Clyde Donnovan came to my rescue.

Phew.

"Ken! What are you doing next Friday night?" He asked.

"Working, why?" He handed me a small piece of paper.

"Token's throwing a house party. You should come."

"I'll think about it."

"Awesome. BYOB, okay?"

"Got it." He walked away. Token's parties; I loved them, but rarely went to them anymore. I folded the invitation up and slipped it into my back pocket. I didn't plan on going.

"What does BYOB mean?" Butters; almost forgot.

"BYOB: bring your own booze."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Pause.

"Kenny."

"Butters."

"Why did Kyle tell me I should stay away from you?"

"I asked him to."

"Why?"

"Because its true."

"He said you were goin' through a whole bunch of problems. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you didn't need to know." Lie.

"Gosh darn it Kenny! I'm your friend! Friends help friends when they have problems."

"I don't need your help." Lie.

"What?" I glared at him.

"You heard me, I can handle myself! You'll just get in the way! I don't need you!"

Lies, lies, lies, lies.

His eyes started to well up, and he ran off into the nearest boy's bathroom.

"I'm sorry Butters." I whispered, knowing he couldn't hear me.

"It's for the best. I'm not good enough for you."

~Butters~

On my way home from school one day, I stopped at the local playground and sat on one of the swings. I loved the swings.

"I had a feeling you'd be here."

Kyle Broflovski was the smartest fella' in our whole school. He's super nice to everyone, except maybe Eric Cartman.

"Hiya Kyle!" I smiled. "Wanna swing with me?" He smiled back and sat on the open swing to my left.

After a few minutes, he stopped.

"Butters, I've been asked to tell you something, but I want you to _**not**_ listen to me."

"What?"

"Just…do the _opposite_ of what I tell you, okay?"?

"Uhh…alright then. What is it?"

"Stay away from Kenny."

"Wha-?"

"He's going through some shi-_stuff_, right now, and he's only trying to protect you."

"What's been going on?"

"I don't know. But listen, Butters, confront him about this. Don't let him do this, okay?"

"Uhh, Kyle? I'm a little bit confused…"

"Just go talk to him Butters. Despite what he says, or even _**thinks**_, he needs you."

"R-really?" Kyle stood up."

"Just go talk to him, okay?"

"Boy howdy I will!"

"Good." He folded his arms over his chest and left.

"See ya Butters."

"Bye Kyle!" When he turned the street corner, I really began to think about what he said.

Kenny wanted me to stay away from him? Why?

And why does Kyle want me to confront him? I don't do things like that?

But maybe now is a good time to start…

"_You heard me, I can handle myself! You'll just get in the way! I don't need you!"_

What a_** jerk**_!"

I couldn't believe he said that! Why would he do that?

Thought maybe after that kiss, he was planning to open up to me more...

Well, darn it, I guess not!

I hid in the bathroom through Phys Ed and cried. Golly, I felt like a big baby for crying, but I couldn't help it.

I stayed in the stall for awhile someone came in. When I peeked out of the stall I saw Tweek Tweak come into the bathroom.

Hmm….i wondered if "Tweek" Was his real frist name…

He went over to the sink and opened up his backpack. He reached in and pulled out four pill bottles.

Boy howdy that a lot!

But I wasn't that surprised, what with Tweek's, you know, _tweaking_ and all.

He opened each bottle and poured a few into his hand. There had to be ten different colored pills in his palm.

I watched him sigh, then swallow some water from the sink's faucet, then pop capsule after capsule. The whole process took about five whole minutes.

When he was done, he leaned against the sink and looked at himself in the mirror. He looked so tired, depressed, with huge bags under his eyes.

Maybe taking all these pills was taking a toll on him.

He tossed the bottles into his backpack, sighed again and left the bathroom.

I stepped out.

Kenny, Kyle, Tweek…

"Everyone's going bananas."

End of chapter


	15. Break Your Heart Wendy&Cartman

Chapter 15: Break Your Heart

~Wendy~

It was always partially winter in South Park. The warmest it ever got was 70 degrees.

Before I moved to Colorado, I lived in Central Florida, and part of me sometimes missed the consistent humid weather.

Especially on that particular day in early January, when a fresh layer of the snow had blanketed the town.

Student Council had run late, because of a dumb argument between members about forming a LGBT group at the school. Half was for it, and half was against it, and the matter had yet to be resolved. 

So there I stood outside the school, as the sun was starting to set, trying to call Stan for a ride home. He wasn't answering. Probably hanging out what Kyle again.

I saw the way Kyle looked at him, and ac ted around him; I didn't like it.

What bothered me the most was that Stan didn't seem to mind. In fact, he would flirt back with no hesitation.

For a while, I was concerned that Stan might be gay; and recently, I found proof that it might be true.

He fell asleep on my bed one afternoon. It was after a big test and he was wiped, snoring lightly on his back.

Feeling playful, I crawled up on to the bed beside him, and he whispered something that completely off guard.

"Heheh, stop it Kyle."

Kyle.

Kyle freaking Broflovski.

I was pissed, to say the least.

And after the incident with Bebe (Which had yet to be resolved and in had no current intentions in doing so), I was even more terrified of losing Stan, especially to Kyle.

I guess I got kind of clingy, I was texting and calling him constantly, and forcing him to cancel plans he'd previously made with friends, especially Kyle.

I had to do what I could to keep him. Stan was everything I had.

"Dammit." I muttered. It was getting late, would it be a good idea to walk?

I looked at my cell phone clock. 6:30. Looked like I had no choice.

I straightened out my tights and skirt, and started down the street.

The cold air nipped at my face and the snow crunched under my boots. Damn, it was cold…

I saw a light shining in the corner of my eye, and turned to see a nice Honda Accord drive up beside me.

Stan didn't drive an Accord…

The window rolled down automatically, and the last person I'd ever expect was smirking up at me.

Eric Cartman.

"Hey hoe, need a lift?"

I barely associate myself with Eric anymore. He didn't hand with Stan and the others anymore. He was on the debate team and in the World Politics with me, we debated a lot, but I never talked to him outside of it.

He's still arrogant, and pigheaded, but he only makes anti-semantic jokes when he's with Kyle, which was quite often.

"What are you doing out here?" I asked.

"I should be the one asking you that." He leaned over and opened the passenger side door.

I sighed, what did I have to lose?

I quickly walked to the other side of the car and slipped in.

The car was extremely warm; I took of my gloves and rubbed my hands.

"Thanks."

"Whatever." He revved the engine and drove off.

An awkward silence followed.

"So..." He started.

"Why'd you pick me up?" 

"Cause a girl shouldn't be walking the streets alone, especially in this rat hole town."

"When did you get so chivalrous?"

"Years ago, you never noticed?" Judging by his light tone, I figured he was being sarcastic. I groaned again.

Another silence.

"When was the last time you talked to Bebe?"

"Huh?"

"Bebe Stevens? Blonde hair, green eyes, wears red a lot, your best friend?"

"She's not my best friend. Not anymore."

"Why?"

"Huh?"

"Why isn't she your best friend anymore?"

"Because."

"Because she's gay?" I stared at him, wide eyed.

How did he know that?"

"I never thought you'd be so prejudiced bitch."

I scowled.

"I'm not prejudice against homosexuals."

"Just Bebe then?"

"No."

"I talk to her a lot. She misses you, and feels bad for what she did.

"Since when do you speak out on behalf of anyone?" 

He continued to stare ahead at the road.

"I've changed a lot in these last few years. You'd be surprised."

He stopped the car, and that's when I realized we were in front of my house.

"Call Bebe, Wendy. I'll see you in History."

I didn't answer, just got out of the car and walked around to the driver's window.

"Thanks for the ride…Eric."

His knuckles tensed up over the searing wheel, and I didn't understand why. I jogged up my front porch steps and went inside, then watched him drive away.

Should I call her?

I pulled out my cell phone and highlighted her name.

Should I? We'd have to talk about…the kiss, and I'd rather nort. But the longer I don't talk to her, the harder it's going to be when I do.

She was my best friend, I didn't want to lose her…

Before I could chicken out, I pressed 'call'.

I waited. A click.

"Hello?"

"Bebe, it's me."

~Cartman~

"Six grand, I'm not going any lower."

"Mr. C, we don't think we should throw around-"

"'ey! I need that money to keep these fighters showing up. You make thirty grand a fight, my fighters' want eight."

"But sir-"

"No 'buts'. Good luck trying to find street rats with a better chance at winning"

"…very well Mr. C."

"Pleasure doing business with you, gentleman."

Politics, it's all just a game.

Rise to power? A chess game.

Somewhere after 8th grade, I grew bored with school economics and politics, so I started to search elsewhere for entertainment.

That's how I was lead to these underground fights. I watched them for a while, intrigued, until I eventually became an anonymous sponsor, and soon climbed the ranks to a top businessman of the fights.

It was then I discovered Kenny was becoming a monkey in one of these fights.

I had info on everyone in town, I knew Kenny's situation; sick mother, retard drunk father, a helpless little sister and a drug addict brother, such a cliché.

He didn't know who sent him the envelopes of cash. He didn't know who scheduled his fights. If he discovered it was me, drama might ensue.

And I hate drama.

I watched Kenny fight before I left that night, he was sweaty, and had won.

I was proud. That was another eight grand for his mother's treatment.

Kenny was a street rat, but he was a smart, fast, and resourceful street rat.

He was also brave, which I had to admire. He was the only one I knew who would go through those brawls with no insurance of survival.

Then again, Kenny didn't necessarily have to worry about survival. No matter what, he always did survive.

No matter what.

Kenny's constant resurrection was the reason he was a cherished fighter. He always came back, and since he wasn't afraid of death, he'd go all out, no notion.

A lot of sponsors wanted him, but I was the only one who had Kenny's best interest at heart.

That is, if I had a heart at all.

That's always kind of been up for debate.

After my mother got remarried to an ex military general turned businessman, he took over my missing father role. He taught me how to be a good person. The problem was, everyone saw me as the 'demon child Cartman' and I never saw a reason to change any of their opinions.

Except maybe one opinion.

Wendy Testeburger

"The girl that got away" cliché.

She was one thing I wanted. One thing I worked so hard for. Every day in World Politics or Debate team, I worked to impress her.

She was always with Stan Marsh, an associate of mine. I hung out with him when we were younger, but he dumped me off mostly, just like Kenny and Kyle Broflovski, the Jew.

It didn't matter to me; I learned not to care too much about that kind of thing anymore.

I befriended Bebe Stevens, ironic, because of how much I used to think she was just some cheap whore. She was actually smart and funny.

And a lesbian, which didn't bother me much, I just considered it a waste of nice ass.

My only real problem with that was she wanted Wendy, and she had a better chance of getting her then I did.

At least I deduced that before I saw Bebe after thanksgiving vacation, balling her eyes out behind the cafeteria. Wendy had completely rejected her. I pitied her, honestly, but that was just gave me an edge. Bebe was no longer a threat.

Maybe I don't have a heart after all.

Shame.

I promised Bebe id speak to Wendy on her behalf, as much as I secretly loathed the idea of abetting my enemy.

So I came to a simple compromise.

"Call Bebe. She misses you."

That was enough of a compromise for me.

Wendy didn't understand my, or my motives. But that was okay, no one really did.

"Thanks for the ride…Eric."

When my name left those lips, a sensation ripped through me, one I'd come to know all too well but never show.

Pain.

I gripped the steering wheel. It wasn't fair. I wanted Wendy. I wanted her so bad.

Maybe when I leave for collage, I can forget about her. Start over, where no one knows my past, and meet a girl that's a thousand times better…

Not a chance.

I smiled at her back as she went into the house.

Maybe I did have a heart.

Shame.


	16. Obsession Craig

Chapter 16: Break Your Heart

~Craig~

So I was suffering from MBBS: Massive Blue Balls Syndrome.

Tweek was a virgin; I knew and respected that, I guess. He wasn't ready, but _damn_, major cock block.

Sure, I had a few booty calls on my phone. Red, Millie, even Bebe Stevens until she started going out with Broflovski. But that would be cheating, and I was trying to be faithful for once in my life.

Believe me, I was tempted. As I stood outside the school in the cold, I scrolled through my cell phone contacts several times, looking at all the girls names…Soooo tempting…But I loved Tweek, regardless. I wanted to be with him in that sense. I shut my phone.

Damn, I needed to get laid.

My black cast constricted a lot of my arms movement. I couldn't hold my cigarette well, or the invitation to Token Black's latest bash. It bothered Tweek how bad it actually was. I hated worrying him, but he had a good reason to.

"Hey Craig." A small voice came from behind me. I turned; it was Red.

"Oh, hey babe, what's up?" She smiled slightly.

"You haven't called me in awhile. How've you been doing?" I had about three minutes until my next class; I guess I had time to talk. 

"I've been good I guess. What about you?"

"Jason and I broke up last week." I already knew; Jason wore his heart on his sleeve.

"Again? That's too bad."

"Yeah, but I've been thinking about you a lot lately."

Shit. 

"What's there to think about?"

"I miss you."

"Haha." I sarcastically laughed, and crushed my cig under my shoe. "Good one."

"What?"

"Why would you miss me?"

"You were different then Jason."

"Isn't that why you cheated on him with me?" She looked away.

"I've wanted to apologize for that. I messed with both of you and hurt you." See? I wasn't the only chronic cheater.

I leaned against the wall. Red and I fucked around when she was having problems with Jason. It was fun and she claimed to have feelings for me, but she ended up going back to Jason eventually. I never believed a word she said. It was just pillow talk; that was all.

"Didn't hurt me." I shrugged, and lit another ciggerette. "You were a good lay." She wrinkled her nose in that cute little way she did.

"Was that all I was to you? A good lay?"

"That's all I was to you."

"That's not true."

"Like hell."

"Craig, seriously."

"Where's Jason?" Pause.

"Phys Ed, I think. Look Craig, if you want to try again I'd-"

"I'm with Tweek now."

Another pause.

"I didn't realize you…swung that way."

"Neither did I."

"…If things don't work out with him…. Give me a call, okay?"

"No promises." I slowly inhaled.

"Go back to Jason, Red. He was good to you." She shrugged.

"He's nothing like you though." The bell rang, and she wrinkled her nose again.

I have to go to Chem." She said, turning.

"My offer still stands. See you later, Craig." I watched her walk away. She was the only girl in our grade who wore jeans more then skirts. I eyed her backside as I dropped my half done butt and crushed it with my shoe.

"Still has a nice ass."

Two days later, I saw Red wearing Jason's soccer jacket. When she saw me, she gave me a sad, longing look.

What did I tell you?

Pillow talk.

-End of chapter 16


	17. Bad Touch Kenny

Drugs sex and teen partying. U have been warned.

Chapter 17: Bad Touch

~Kenny~

Flashback

"_But sir, I really can't!"_

_Kenny sin, you haven't had a day off in two months. Union says you have to have the weekend off!"_

"_Sir, I really need the hours, I can't afford-"_

"_Its two days boy."_

"_That's two days without pay. I'm sorry sir, but I really cant afford it right now. Please, can't you just give me extra vacation days next month?"_

_My usually pretty lenient boss, Mr. Roger Crass, leaned over his bulbous stomach to look me in the eye._

"_Look son, if you don't take a day off once in awhile, the union will come snooping around. You don't want that, do you?"_

Flashback over

And that's how I ended up at Token Black's stupid party.

I had no intention of going, but as soon as word got out that I had the weekend off, everyone expected me to take an appearance.

Great, just great.

So there I stood, by the keg, with a beer in my hand.

Butters was looking for me.

His eyes were searching the crowd of people. I couldn't talk to him. Not yet.

It was then I noticed the door leading to Token's basement and the smoke leaking out from under the door.

I knew the layout of these parties. Stoners in the basement, E-ers (Extasy users) and on the first floor, and bangers on the second.

I found myself trying to remember the last time id taken a hit…

Early junior year maybe? Before I started to really buckle down?

Butters started walking in my direction, so I ducked into the basement and down the stairs into the darkness.

The smell of marijuana was overwhelming. I think I even got a little high just from the secondhand.

The lights were off, except for a lamp. The carpet was a dark red.

Cartman, Jimmy, Craig, Red, Bebe, and Brydant were all huddled in a large circle, passing around joints and a small blue bowel (not the kind you put cereal in).

"H-hey Kenny. Its been awhile since you've been d-d-down here." Jimmy Vulmer stuttered as he greeted me with bloodshot eyes. I almost tripped over his long abandoned crutches on my way to the circle.

"Been-OOF!-busy."

Jimmy wasn't always a pot head. In fact at one point he was actually against the stuff. But I guess after multiple failed surgeries trying to fix his legs, and Timmy's sudden death freshman year due to a nasty seizure, he turned to it to deal with the pain and depression.

Whatever works for him. Personally I don't blame him. Timmy's death fucked a lot of us up. Thomas started a nasty painkiller addiction after that, it almost killed him.

I moved over next to Cartman and sat down. Craig got up and stumbled upstairs, muttering something about beer.

Cartman looked sad, almost distant.

"What's eating you fatass?" He glared at me for a moment, and then sighed, like he didn't have the energy to retort.

"Chicks man. I don't get 'em anymore."

When was the last time I thought about a girl seriously?

"What is it man?"

"Don't ask poorboy. Your faggy little mind couldn't possibly understand." He stood up shakily and went upstairs.

I took the bowl from Bebe and took a hit, then paused to let the drug cloud my mind.

"Whatever dude." I blew out smoke.

"I just don't care anymore."

After about two hours of smoking, I finally had enough courage to talk to Butters.

A sober me would have known this was a bad idea.

I stumbled up the stairs and out of the basement in my sky-high haze to the dance floor, and nearly tripped out on the dancing lights and rave music.

Stan and Kyle were dancing, but it looked more like sex with clothes on.

I knew Kyle was gay, and I was sure Stan was at least bisexual.

I was pretty high functioning when I was high, and I couldn't help but notice that Kyle moved his hips like a girl.

It was kinda hot actually, and Stan seemed to like it too.

When they started kissing, I nremmeber I was supposed to be looking for Butters, and stumbled over to a table seating Clyde Donnavan, Craig, and Christophe. They were playing some sort of drinking game. It looked like Christophe was winning.

"C-cyde duddy, you seeb Butters?" Was that me?

Clyde looked up at me with eyes glassed over and pointed towards the staircase leading upstairs.

"Went that way." He garbled.

Upstairs? Who went upstairs again?'

….

Was Butters actually getting laid?

No way.

As steady as I could (Which wasn't much at all), i climbed the stairs.

Token tended to sprinkle condoms throughout the hallways on the second and third floor in an attempt to be a responsible host. So condoms littered the floor, as well as cups, bottles and clothing. Girls could be heard moaning in some of the rooms.

I saw Cartman step out of one of the rooms, shirt off, and looking sick. He ran into a bathroom. Heaving noises followed.

I peeked into the room to see, or all people, Wendy in a bra and panties, trying to put on her jeans.

Awkward…

I continued down the hallway and in front of the last door on the left was a pair of sky blue converse sneakers.

Only one boy in South Park wears those sneakers.

The door was partially cracked open, so I pushed it wide….

And almost shit my pants.

Butter was unconscious, bent over in the bed with his pants around his ankles. Something was seeping out of his backside.

I couldn't believe what I was seeing.

"Butters? Butters? Oh my god!" I shook him, trying to wake him up.

He wasn't responding. This was way more than a little too much to drink.

I pulled up his pants so he was wearing them again, then picked him up bridal style, despite the room shifting.

"C'mon." He was completely limp in my arms. I had to get him to a hospital, he wasn't waking up.

I carried him down the stairs, stumbling the whole way and almost falling several times, yet I was feeling incredibly sober.

I made it outside to my truck and put Butters in the passenger side seat, then tried to get in the driver's side.

As I tried to put the key into the ignition, the wheel shifted.

I was too high; I couldn't drive. I couldn't even start the car.

"Shit." I grunted. What now? I can't call an ambulance, cause they'll bring the cops.

I rested my head on the steering wheel, trying to defog my brain.

"This wouldn't have happened if I'd have gone to work today."

"Need some 'elp, McCormick?"

When did Christophe get here?

The mercenary stood outside my truck, leaning against it like he had been there the entire time.

Yeah, not helping my paranoia at all.

When'd you get here mole?"

"I 'ave been 'ere for awhile McCormick, and I see you are 'aving a predicament, no?"

"Maybe. You sober?"

"More then you."

"Touché. Can you drive?"

"Maybe. Get the blonde in the back."

I scooted over and pulled our unconscious friend onto my lap.

Christophe got into the driver's side of the car and started it easily.

"Where to, mon ami?"

"Hells Pass."

"Very well."

Never let a semi-retired mercenary drive your car.

I don't know If I was imagining it because I was high or what, but Christophe drive like a fucking maniac.

We literally flew over shit! I was scared out of my fucking mind before we skidded in front of the hospital building.

At this point, my hands were over my face.

"Is it over?"

"oui."

I uncovered my eyes. The car was still.

"Do you always act this way while 'igh?"

"No. Do you always drive like a fucking NASCAR racer?"

"oui."

"Ugh." I got out of the truck, and grabbed Butters, who was incoherently moaning and garbling.

I tried to carry him, but I kept stumbling. Butters wasn't all that heavy, I didn't know what my problem was.

"Need some 'elp, McCormick?"

"I'm fine." Another stumble.

"Does not zeem that way mon ami."

"Fine. Give me a hand." Christophe took Butters from my arms and easily carried him into the emergency room.

"Oh my goodness! What happened?" A little nurse with long dark hair came up to us. I tried to read her name tag, but my vision was still blurry.

"We want to report a sexual assault." Christophe stated. I looked up at him, confused, but couldn't understand why.

"Oh gosh, follow me this way. She grabbed a clipboard and motioned towards a room in the emergency ward. Butters was starting to come around.

"What? What's going on?"

"I'm an SAN. My name is Yoselyn."

"You're insane?"

"No. SAN. Sexual Assault Nurse."

"Sexual what?"

"Shush Butters." I said, stroking his head, then looked up.

"How do we take care of this?"

"We can perform a rape kit."

"A what?"

"It's a full exam to find fluid, hairs and other things in the case of a rape. What we find in the kit can be used in court and a police investigation."

"Okay…" I said "Do it." She nodded, and went to the cabinet in the room.

"Pardonnez-moi madame, but aren't you supposed to get consent before you do that?"

"If the patient is unconscious, we are to assume they consent."

"Je vois, very well."

The nurse pulled out a semi-large white plastic box out of the cabinet and turned to face me.]

"This is kind of invasive; private. Are you sure you want to be here for it?"

"I'm not abandoning Butters."

The nurse looked over at Christophe, who shrugged.

"I'll be waiting outside."

It took 3 hours to do the complete kit. Butters freaked out a lot when he really started to come around. He cried a lot.

By hour 2, I was feeling levelheaded again. I could remember everything, even though I kind of wished I didn't.

The weed, Cartman and Wendy, finding Butters, Christophe, everything.

I felt like an idiot. I should have protected him! I should have kept an eye on him instead of hiding like some kind of coward.

Butters never went to theses kinds of parties by himself. I was always there to watch over him.

This was all my fault.

They found semen and hair, and skin cells. More than enough to ID the scumbucket who did this. They also found roofies in his system. Yoeslyn also thought Buttes may have been exposed to Chlamydia, which had been going around at the time. An antibiotic cocktail would take care of that.

Drugged, raped and exposed to the clap in less then 6 hours I couldn't believe it at all.

Butters passed out again after a bit, and the nurse went to call the police and have them come get an official statement. But Butters couldn't remember anything.

I went inside and met up with Christophe, who was smoking near a 'NO SMOKING' sign. Typical.

"'ow is 'e?" Christophe didn't glance in my direction when he passed me a butt.

"A mess. He doesn't remember anything."

"That es unfortunate." I took a drag.

"I'm scared man. Butters was a virgin, and so innocent. This destroyed him."

"If you don't mind me asking, McCormick, where were you?"

I didn't answer right away.

"McCormick?"

"Iwas in the basement. I wasn't watching out for him.

"Shame." A long silence.

"Thanks for coming to help Christophe. I owe you one."

"votre accueil mon ami. But yes, I believe you do owe me something."

"Okay, like what?" He turned and looked at me seriously.

"Kyle."

"What?"

"I want Kyle Broflovski."

You…you're serious."

"oui, very much. And you, McCormick, 'ave no choice but to 'elp me."

-End of chapter

Review please!

Next chapter: Stan!

mariah


	18. Untouched Stan

Chapter 18 "Untouched"

~Stan~

I don't know what made Craig think he was a good dancer.

I mean, he was basically dry-humping Clyde and Tweek, and both of them were so drunk they either didn't realize what was going on or didn't care. Tweek looked like he was actually into it, but I could never really tell with him.

Staying almost completely sober at a party sucked. 80% of the fun was getting completely wasted, and the other 20% was doing crazy stuff and getting laid.

Since I didn't wan the latter to happen, I had to keep myself in check. It blew. Big time.

Kyle, on the other hand, was long gone after about two and a half hours. The guy loved partying, what could I say? Underneath the button-up shirts and 4.5 GPA laid a crazy frat boy. None of the adults had any idea, and if any of us told them, they wouldn't believe us. When Kyle partied, he _partied_.

And normally, I was right beside him, but not tonight.

I watched him get pulled away at one point by Christophe Delorne when we first arrived. He said something about "last time" and wanting to talk about it. Kyle came back to me in a few minutes, looking upset. He wouldn't talk about it when I asked him.

"Something dumb; don't worry about it man."

So we preceded to drink and joke and make complete asses of ourselves. Before long, most of us were so high or shitfaced, we couldn't remember out own names, and almost all of us ended up on the dance floor.

I lost Kyle for awhile, and I was so distracted with staying sober I didn't noticed until he found me on the dance floor, trying to stay standing.

"Hey Stan" I turned to Kyle's voice in time to see him slam his lips onto mine.

Woah!

His tongue slipped something onto mine...what was it?

He let me go and smirked.

"You need to loosen up Stan. Enjoy."

I didn't understand, then a few minutes later, it hit me.

Like really really _**hit**_ me.

Everything got hot and slow, and I was fucking _horny_!

And there was Kyle, moving his hips in ways no guy should be able to.

And suddenly, I wanted to be a part of it.

I went up behind him and started grinding against him, the small sober part of me screaming against it.

Kyle got close, and started grinding back. If felt good, _really_ good.

The music beat like a heartbeat, and everyone else just faded out. It was just Kyle and I.

Me and Kyle.

I put my hands on his hits to pull him as close to me as possible with our clothes on.

Hmm...There's a thought...

I wanted Kyle. Bad. At this point I didn't know if this was a new feeling, or if it had been inside of me the entire time, but it had to be taken care of

ASAP.

Though his back was facing me, I turned his head around and kissed him boldly.

We stopped dancing.

His tongue entered my mouth, and both of ours intertwined.

He turned around and gently pushed me off the dance floor and against the wall but the stairwell.

The kiss deepened and I gripped his hips as I bit his lip. I could feel him moan, though I couldn't hear it; I couldn't hear anything.

He moved his mouth to my ear.

"Lets go upstairs."

Then the E completely takes over.

And I knew no more.

~Later~

Light hit my face and my head exploded.

And I asked that typical question:

What happened last night?

I opened my eyes to see a bright window and sky blue sheets; I was in a room I didn't recognize.

I sat up, and felt a warm presence beside me.

I looked over to not only realize I was naked, but Kyle was laying next to me, unclothed as well.

Then the nights events crashed back to me like a wave.

Every kiss, every soft touch. Pale peach skin and fiery curls. Pink lips parted slightly, chanting my name.

Kyle and I...we'd...

I got off the bed, found my dark blue boxers, abandoned on the floor, and put them on. I couldn't believe what had happened.

What the hell were we thinking?

I looked over at Kyle, still fast asleep. His hair was strewn all over his pillow and the light blue blanket was only partially covering him.

He looked so peaceful; I felt so confused.

The clock beside the bed said 9:38AM. Was anyone else awake? Was anyone else still there?

I found my blue carpenters jeans and put those on, not caring about finding a shirt, then slipped ou of the room.

The house was dead silent. Condom wrappers, bottles and cans, and cups littered the hallways. Clothes were draped over the stairs.

About half the parties guests were passed out throughout the area.

My head pounded as I descended down the stairs.

Clyde was strewn across the drink mixing table, while Token was Koed at the DJ stand.

Bebe was out on the couch, red hickeys covered her almost naked torso.

And I swore I saw Jimmy through the front window, passed out.

I didn't see Wendy, Butters, Christophe, Craig, Kenny or Tweek...Maybe they left early...maybe they were elsewhere.

I was careful not to step on Millie or Alex, who were curled up on the floor half inside the closet.

Garbage was everywhere, one of Jimmy's crutches was hanging from the ceiling fan along with two bras.

Typical scene for the morning after Token's parties.

Kyle and I had sex. I was scared. Did he remember it? He was pretty gone last night...Shit, did that make it rape? I didn't want to rape him! Maybe

_he_ raped _me_..

No, shut up and calm down Stan. It was consensual and you know it.

Shit.

Shit. Shit. Fuck. Shit. Dammit.

I could have ruined our friendship forever! I could have destroyed both of our reputations, maybe even our plans for college.

All for one stupid, drunken..._incredible_ night.

Incredible. That was the only way I could describe it. It felt right.

Was it because of Kyle? Was I gay after all?

I didn't know.

"Sup fag." I jumped at the new sound, and turned to see Cartman.

I thought he'd left...

"C-Cartman...what are you still doing here?"

"Looking for survivors." He said, glancing around.

"And looking for dirt before anyone can cover it up." His brown eyes moved back to me, and he gave me a once over.

"What are you still doing here?"

"I passed out."

"Mhm, weren't you trying to stay sober last night?"

"How did you-"

"it was obvious. You weren't touching anything all night. So who, dare I ask..." He smirked, tapping his chin with his finger. "...Did you go upstairs

with last night?"

I could feel my face getting hot. No way in hell was I going to tell anyone what happened until I figured this out, especially Eric Freaking Cartman of

all people.

"N-no one."

"You sure?"

"Yes." I could tell by the look on his face that he didn't believe me.

"Wheres the Jew? He got pretty hammered last night."

Shit! Kyle! I had left him upstairs!

"I'll...uh...I'll go find him." I pushed past Cartman and ran up the stairs.

I had to wake Kyle up and talk to him before he got up and-"

"Stan?"

"Kyle?"

There he stood, clad in his sweat-stained T-shirt and boxers. I didn't know what to say. Did I take Kyle's virginity? I knew he never slept with

Bebe..oh man, I don't think I could handle that kind of responsibility...

"What happened last night?"

"I...well...I gotta go." I rushed down the stairs and out the front door.

I didn't understand. I couldn't.

-End of chapter.

Its going to be hard to update this summer, because its hard for me to find time at home to type this damn thing. At school I have more free time, if you can believe that. But that doesnt mean I have stopped working on this. I have up to chapter 22 handwritten right now, and then I just have to type it up. Review and I will try harder to update!

Mariah

PS Still looking for that summery thing...help please?


	19. Skin&Bones Craig&Tweek

Chapter 21 Skin and Bones

~Craig~

Token's party changed a lot of people.

I saw Stan and Kyle, as well as Cartman and Wendy go upstairs, and I saw Kenny carrying Butters out of the house.

Most of the night was a blur.

When I came to the morning after, I found a pair of pink lacy panties in my pocket.

I recognized them almost instantly; they were Red's.

Oh my god, what the fuck happened last night?

Did I cheat on Tweek?

Oh god.

Am. Fucked.

My head pounded, and I think I had done coke, or had gotten high somehow.

I couldn't find Tweek. I texted him but he hadn't responded yet.

I found Clyde, completely KO-ed at the drinks table, obscenities written all over his face in magic marker.

Why couldn't I remember anything? It was so fuzzy...Usually I was pretty good at keeping my head...

my phone vibrated, causing Clyde to twitch, one of his hands was stuck in a pickle jar, and he smacked his head with it.

I would have laughed at it...if it wasn't for Tweek's text:

Don't talk 2 me Craig. We R done, remember? -T

What the fuck had happened last night?

~Tweek~

Token's party was the worst thing that had ever happened to me.

In the beginning, we were great. I didn't like drinking or using drugs, but Craig loved it, and he got so relaxed when he was cross-faded.

He didn't care that people were around. He kissed me and danced with me and I was happy. No one else mattered. Not the party goers, not his father, no one...

I went to go get us some beers, and when I got back, I saw Craig playing tonsil hockey with Red Johnson on the couch! His hand was under her skirt and between her legs.

What a whore! I was furious, hurt and confused. Why would he do this to me?

I stomped over to to Craig and with strength I didn't even know I had, I threw him off of her.

He hit the back of the couch hard, almost flipping over the couch's arm. Clyde Donovan started laughing hysterically at the sight.

Craig tried to talk to me, but it came out garbled. How much did he have to drink? I wasn't sure.

I couldn't handle it. How could he? Drunk or sober, I didn't care! I stormed out of the party, seeing Kenny trying to put an unconscious Butters into his car.

Kenny McCormick. Maybe he understood Craig more then I did. Kenny kind of understood everything. I made a mental note to talk to him later.

I had drove to the party with Craig. How the hell was I going to get home? Kenny's truck zoomed by me, Christophe DeLorne at the wheel.

That's odd. Craig had told me Christophe had gotten his license confiscated by the police last summer...something about a ten car pileup...

I shrugged, at the moment it wasn't important.

What was important was getting the fuck away as soon as possible.

And that was when I saw Wendy Testeburger, stumbling out of Token's cabin and to her car.

She was in no position to drive.

"Wendy!" She turned, confused, then looked at me. She was pale; like she had seen a ghost.

"Tweek?" I nodded. She fumbled with her keys.

"You're in no shape to drive." I said. She continued to fumble.

I held out my hand.

"May I? I'll drive you home."

"C-can you drive?" She asked.

"I have my permit. Craig takes..._took_ me out all time time. I can drive."

She looked down, then handed me her keys. She had a little plastic teddy bear attached to the chain.

I smiled.

"Get in the car. I promise I'll get you home safely." I wasn't sure why I was so I was so gentle and reassuring with her. I didn't really know Wendy. I think Craig hooked up with her once or twice, but that was about it. Maybe it was because she looked as bad as I felt that night. She looked so sad and scared, I guess it was just innate.

She got into the passenger side of the car at the same time as I sat in the drivers seat.

Craig taught me how to drive. He did a lot of me.

I loved him.

And he betrayed me.

We drove down the hill from Token's cabin and silently drove the 20 minute ride into town. The clock on the dashboard said 2:53AM.

Whenever we stopped at the stoplights, I glanced over at Wendy.

She looked like she had been attacked. She had bruises on her neck and some of the buttons on her shirt weren't buttoned properly, or weren't there at all. Her hair was wrecked and she was pale too.

"Hey Wendy...Are you okay? I mean...you look like you've just been attacked."

She grabbed her shirt and pressed it closer to her body.

"N-no. I'm fine."

"Look, if you got like...raped or something...the police station isn't too far from here."

"N-no. I wasn't raped. Just please...don't tell anyone you saw me like this tonight, okay Tweek?"

"Sure, no problem." She relaxed in her seat.

When we finally pulled up to Wendy's house, she turnde to me.

"How are you going to get home?"

"I live down the street. I'll walk."

"Oh..." She paused, then opened the car door.

"Tweek?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for taking me home." 

"No problem." I smiled, though my chest ached. She stumbled into her house, and I turned off the engine.

I put the keys on the dashboard. At this point, I didn't care if the car got stolen or something. When I got out of the car, I thought about the night.

Damn.

I shoved my hands into my pockets and started to head home.

How was I going to face Craig? I mean, what was I going to say? I couldn't live without him but...

I sneak into my dark house, tiptoed into my room where I collapsed onto my bed and passed out.

I didn't know how I was going to live now.

~end of chapter


	20. Someday Kenny

Chapter 20 "Someday"

~Kenny~

I think I've seen Butters wear black twice in the entire time I've known him.

The first time was when we were younger in fourth grade, during that time with that stupid vampire fad, and Butters had thought he was "changed" Luckily, that didn't last.

The second time was at Timmy's funeral two summers ago. The news of his sudden death was devastating to all of us. I watched Butters try his best to comfort Jimmy at the funeral home as he hid in the stairwell, trying to mask his hysterics. Shorty after that, he started buying weed off of me.

It was a horrible time for all of us.

I never thought I'd see Butters wear black again, unless we had to go to another funeral. He just didn't wear dark colors, it wasn't him.

That's why I, as well as about 99% of the school population dropped their jaws at the sight of Butters the Monday after the party.

He had on black skinny jeans, along with a red and black T-shirt over a black and white long sleeved stripped one. Black converses too, he went all out. He also had a depressed look on his face.

Frankly, the sight worried me.

"Hey.." I said, he didn't look at me.

"Hey." He muttered. No 'Hiya Kenny!"?

"Whats with the new look? Goth kids get to you again?" He shut his locker, still not looking at me.

"They were vampire kids, Kenny."

He started to walk away, so I followed him.

"My bad. So how's ya day been?"

"Fine."

"Where'd you get the clothes?"

"The mall, where else?"

"Butters, about Friday..."

"Don't. I don't want to talk about it Kenny."

"Did the police call you back?"

"I said I didn't want to-"

"What did your parents say-"

"KENNY! God dammit shut the hell up would you?" I jumped back, startled. Everyone in the hallway was staring.

Did Butters just yell at me?

"I said I don't want to fucking talk about it! Okay Kenny!"

"Butters, I'm so sorry, I just want to help. I-"

"Help? You want to help? This is your fault to begin with! Just do me a favor Kenny and...and butt out!" He turned on his heel and sprinted away.

What the...

What the _**fuck**_?

Who was this new Butters?

And its my fault? Yeah, I guess I knew that. But it hurt hearing it from him.

I needed to make this right.

I needed to find Butters Rapist.

"A what?" Token stared at me, eyebrow raised.

"A list. You know, of people you invited to the party Friday night. You're an organized guy Token, you must have some kind of system, right?"

He looked at me like I was absolutely crazy, but sighed and nodded.

"Yeah, I keep a list. I give it to Clyde usually when he passes out invites." Token reached into his backpack under his desk and pulled out an accordion folder. I was right; damn kid was organized.

He pulled out a sheet of crisp computer paper.

"Here it is. This is the list I gave to Clyde last week. He said everyone on the list went."

I looked at the list, and thanked Token, who shrugged and asked if I knew where he could get a hit of adderall. I suggested Tweek, and he nodded.

When I was taking my break at work, I looked at the list.

Clyde

Jimmy

Craig

Brydant

Milly

Wendy

Becca

Bebe

Levi

Kenny

Kyle

Stan

Christophe

Red

Cartman

Tweek

Jason

James

Mary

Holly

Sarah

Powder

I figured I could rule out all of the girls, so that left 12 boys. I decided to rule out Tweek, Kyle, Brydant and Jimmy. I was with Brydant and Jimmy most of the night, and Stan and Kyle couldn't have done it. And Tweek was just...Tweek.

So that left 6.

A headache was brewing in the back of my skull. I had way to much going on.

My family, my job, school, Butters, Christophe... too much.

"Yo man" Jameson, a coworker of mine, sat beside me on the sidewalk.

"Hey J." I said, refolding the list and shoving it back into my pocket.

"Heard Rogers gonna make you take a vacation." I ran a hand through my hair.

"Yeah, I've been falling asleep a lot, and he knows I'm under a lot of stress. But I cant afford to take a vacation right now."

Jameson tapped his chocolate colored finger against his chin.

"Tell ya what K, I just came across a lotta money. Rich uncle just died and left me a bundle. Why don't you come over and do a few things for me, and I'll write ya a nice fat check, dig?"

I gaped at him.

"You serious?"

"As a heart attack my brotha." He smiled. I couldn't believe this! This could fix my financial problem!"

"D-deal dude." I shook hands with him, and he scrawled his address on the back of the list of names I had. He said to stop by during my vacation. I agreed.

I was so excited, I felt like a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders. With this help, I could focus on Butters, and school, at least for a little while. I won't have to fight. I could get some _sleep_!

For just a little while, I felt on top of the world.

~end of chapter

I seem to constantly shit on Kenny's life. I love Kenny though..idk. So who wants to play Who Raped Butters? Anyone have any ideas yet? There will be more clues to come don't worry


	21. Invisible Wendy&Bebe

Chapter 22 Invisible

~Wendy~

This can't be happening.

This _cannot_ be happening!

Not to me.

No way.

I had skipped first block to hide in the girls bathroom. I was too terrified to do this at home.

How could I be so fucking stupid?

That damn party caused everything.

_~Flashback~_

"_C'mon Wendy, just one more drink..." Clyde handed me another red cup full of rum and coke. Why did they use those red cups? I mean, really?_

_Everything was blurry after that. I remember Token and Clyde trying to pick me up, and I remember retreating to one of the many master bathrooms in the huge cabin._

_I remember splashing cold water onto my face and someone knocking on the door._

_It turned out to be Bebe._

_After a long talk over the phone, I had agreed to be "friends with benefits" with her. I had made it clear it was experimental and either of us could back out at any time, but I think she still hoped for more then that._

_We made out in the shower, then I stumbled out to the drinks table._

_4 more shots of tequila later and things got even more fuzzy. I remember Cartman giving me two more drinks and flirting with me. _

_I never really thought about how nice he could be if he tried._

_Next thing I knew, we were kissing in one of the many guest rooms, half naked. _

_And I didn't want to stop it._

_Eric Cartman intrigued me. I didn't understand how a guy could praise Adolf Hitler, yet work on student government and try to improve out school. Don't believe me? I'm on the committee too._

_The time we spent alone was incredible, even if I can't remember the details. I never would have though Eric Cartman would be good in bed._

_When we finished, we passed out, and only when I woke up did I realize what we had done._

"_Eric...Eric...Cartman!" He snorted awake._

"_W-what?" When he saw me, he smiled dreamily, and rested his hand on my stomach._

_The intimate gesture confused me._

"_Hey...I didn't hurt you, did I?"_

"_N...no."_

"_Good. I mean, I knew you weren't a virgin, but I wanted to make sure."_

_I didn't say anything. I couldn't, I was shocked._

_He stood up and put on his boxers and jeans._

"_We should probably..." he started, but suddenly stopped and turned green._

"_I think I'm gonna puke." and with that, he rushed out of the room across the hall into the nearest restroom. I stood up and quickly put on my clothes, but I was so dizzy that I fell over several times._

_When I was done, I ran out of the room and sprinted down the stairs. I couldn't think, I just had to get out. I stumbled to my car, and Tweek Tweak of all people ended up driving me home. _

_Worst night of my life._

_~Flashback over~_

Now, my period is late, and I have to do something I never thought I'd have to do; a home pregnancy test in the school bathroom.

How could this happen to me? There were at least 100 condoms floating around Token's house during that party? He put them there for a reason, why didn't we use one? Why why why!

Oh god, I can't be pregnant, especially not with Eric Cartman's child!

I checked my watch, it was time to read the test, but I was scared out of my mind. I didn't think I could handle it if it was positive...

"Wendy...what are you doing in here?" I whipped my head around to see Bebe standing in the doorway, purse in hand. She was probably there for a morning make-up touch-up.

"Uhh...Nothing.." I grabbed the white stick off the sink and hid it behind my back. Bebe cocked an eyebrow.

"Seriously, what are you doing? You missed homeroom and first period; everyone thinks you're absent today." I backed up, hoping to grab my bag and flee...

But that god damn stick escaped from my fingers.

It clattered onto the tiled floor, and I froze.

Shit.

Bebe stared at the incriminating item on the floor. She had had her fair share of pregnancy scares, so she knew exactly what it was.

"Wendy..." she stomped over to grab the stick, and I dove for it. She struggled with it and got it from me. She looked at it, and then at me.

"Wendy, are you pregnant?" I couldn't stop it, the tears started to fall.

I brought my knees to my chest and hugged them closer.

She put an arm around me.

"Its okay Wends, its okay." She says.

"What does it say?" I asked. She didn't answer right away, and that scared me.

"Bebe?"

"...I'm sorry Wendy." I stared crying again. Why me? Why?

"Its okay, you have options. But...who's is it?"

I couldn't say it was Cartman's. No way in hell! So the only alternative was..

"S-Stan's." I sniffed. She sighed.

"Are you going to tell him?" I shook my head. I couldn't, because it _wasn't_ Stan's.

"Right. Still on no-speaking terms with him, but I still think you should tell him..and you have options."

I sniffed again, and nodded.

"I just can't believe this is happening to me. Why does it have to be me?"

"It happens to a lot of people Wends, but like I said, you have options. I think you should tell Stan. He has a right to at least know about it."

I didn't say anything, but my mind was racing.

Should I tell Cartman? Would he want to know? Would he want to be involved? Would he _care_?

I didn't know; Cartman continued to surprise me.

~Bebe~

Have you ever loved someone so much, and they just loved someone else?

Your heart just shatters, right? That's how I felt when Wendy told me she was having Stan's baby.

Why? I was so close to having her to myself, and then this happened. She'll probably tell him, and he'll probably marry her, and then I'll lose her forever.

I was scared, but not nearly as much as she prbably was, and that was what I knew I had to concentrate on right then; her, not me.

I read something online once. It said "If you really love someone, you want them to be happy, even if it s without you.".

I guess its time to show Wendy how much I truly loved her.

~Wendy~

Two days after finding out I was pregnate, I decided to tell Cartman

He had at least a right to know.

I went up to him while he was at his locker.

Ijust kind of blurted it out.

"I'm pregnate." He just kind of stared at me and shut his locker.

"Okay, so?" He started to walk away before I could even respond.

"It's yours." He stopped dead, his text books dropped from his hands and thudded loudly onto the hallway floor. The bell rang, singling the beginning of class.

He turned around and walked back to me.

"Are...are you sure?" I nodded.

"You're the only one it could be."

"What about Stan or...Token or...?" I shook my head.

He stared at me, almost uncomprehending, his eyes searching mine for any hint of a lie.

"You...You're serious."

"Yes." His eyes widened.

"Shit."

"I know."

"So...what...do you plan to do with it?"

"I don't know yet. I just found out."

He took a step back.

"will you...let me know?"

"Uh... Sure." He placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Thank you. Let me know if you need something. And...I wont' tell anyone." He patted my shoulder and shuffled his feet.

"We should get to class.." And he walked away.

Was Cartman...Supportive?

When did he become so...like, _nice?_

**Mind. Fuck.**

~Later~

"You could have it, you know and, like, give it up for adoption." Bebe, Red, Millie and I sat at the lunch table the next day, discussing what I could do. Red was the one that had spoken.

"But I don't want to get that _huge_, everyone will know. I can't deal with that."

"True, it will be really noticeable." Bebe said, seeming down since I had told her.

"But I don't know what else to do. I can't keep it. I'm not ready to be a mother." Millie looked up.

"You could, you know, _not_ have the baby." She said. I stared at her, mind slowly understanding.

"What, do you mean like..." I looked around for easedroppers and whispered.

"An abortion?"

"People have them all the time. No one will know." Then Bebe piped in.

"It can be totally quiet."

" wanted to jump up and yell, tell them that a good catholic girl like me would never ever consider ending a life in such a way.

But, honestly, I paid attention in science class. The baby was only a fetus, it wasn't actually a _child_ yet...

I didn't want to, but what other choice did I have?

-End of chapter.

OO, controversial stuff here. Please don't flame me for it. I'm on the fence about Abortion. I don't like it, but I'm pro-choice, so don't yell at me.

Next chapter is Stan, Kyle and...Christophe? Tune in and Review!

Mariah


	22. Crush Kyle

A/N: something tells me this chapter is going to seriously piss off Darkslayer18 …..

Chapter 22 Crush

~Kyle~

Friday night was incredible.

An incredible, passionate, sinful mistake.

And I thought I had learned my lesson after last time.

When we first arrived at the party, I had wanted to stay away from the hard stuff, like E and weed, and I planned to, until Christophe confronted me.

"Kyle, mon ami, may I talk to you for a moment."

Christophe...

"Um...Sure dude."

"Merci." He grabbed my arm and dragged me away from Stan and the other party goers outside the the side of the house.

"What is it 'Tophe?"

"You should not be 'ere. Not after last time."

"Look, I can handle myself. Last time...I just wont get that high. Simple as that. I turned to leave, but he grabbed my arm.

"I see 'ow you look at 'im. Stanley. Do you 'ave feelings for 'im?"

My breathing hitched. How did he know? I was so careful...

"I...I don't know. I don't think That's any of your business Christophe." He jerked me around suddenly, startling me. I thought he was going to hit me.

But he didn't. He ran a hand through my red hair and calmly placed it on my face, cupping my cheek.

"After Token's last party, I believe it is indeed my business, mon amour."

Token's last party. The whole night was a blur. All I really remember is popping some E and making out with Christophe, and then ending up coming to next to him in his apartment.

Since then, Christophe's been trying to corner me and talk to me about it, and I kept avoiding him.

Don't get me wrong, Christophe was hot. He had the whole bad boy persona down to a T.

This particular night he was wearing those brown camouflage pants and gray tank top. He still had that hemp sailor bracelet he had on at token's last party. I used to hear all the girls go gah-gah over him. He had dark drown hair and matching eyes, he'd be a chick magnate if he wasn't so scary.

Or, if he hadn't slept with me.

"Christophe, please. It was one night. I wont tell anyone. I promise."

"You think that I don't want you to tell. I want to tell everyone."

"He grabbed my wrist again.

"Won't you give me a chance, Mon amour?"

_**What the hell was he saying?**_

"What are you-" He leaned forward and pressed is warm chapped lips against mine.

Refusing to acknowledge the butterflies exploding in my stomach, I pushed him away. He didn't go very far; he was a lot stronger then I was.

"What the hell-? Christophe!" He looked down at me with sad eyes, keeping proper distance for the time being.

"Kyle?"

"Look 'Tophe, can we talk about this later? Or never..?"

"Kyle, mon ami please. I'm sorry. I am...how do you say...no good at this sort of thing."

I waited.

"I just wanted to know. That night...It meant nothing te you?"

"I never said that. Just...I've got to go." Taking my chance, I ducked back into the party, losing Christophe in the crowd.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

Fact was, I had always been attracted to Christophe. It was one of clues that brought me to realize my sexuality in the first place. But Christophe was odd, mysterious and obviously dangerous. I knew he was a bad idea for a crush, so after that first time in bed, I made it my mission to move on.

Deciding to erase Christophe from my mind, I found Clyde who was dealing ecstasy tablets, and bought a few. Sweet Moses I loved those things.

Being related to Shelia Brovlovski is a lot of stress. Sometimes its overwhelming, so these few weekends when I can get away are golden.

I got two pills, popped one, and searched the crowd for Stan. Rave lights of rainbow colors blinked and bounced off the mirrors strategically placed all around the room.

The music's beat hummed through the room like a heartbeat.

I noticed Butters passed out on one of the couches, surrounded by two guys I didn't recognize. Drunk already? He was such a lightweight. Where was Kenny? Shouldn't he be watching him like he normally does?

Craig was on another couch with Red, and I half wondered where Tweek was. Weren't they dating or something...?

I found Stan, and he asked me what had happened.

"Something stupid, don't worry about it." He nodded and we went over to the drinking table.

Two hours later, we were drunk.

Two more hours later, we were high and grinding on the dance floor.

And a half hour after that, we were upstairs.

The night was incredible.

But when I woke up, Stan was gone.

Where was he? Was he upset?

When I'd gotten up, I had put my shirt and boxers on, then stepped outside of the room only to see Stan look at me wide-eyed. He stuttered and apology and ran away.

I remembered everything, and it looked like he remembered too.

I went back into the bedroom and put my jeans on, then turned to see Stan's hat and shirt on the floor.

The shirt was stained with sweat. Gross.

I grabbed both of them and took them with me as I left the disastrous party scene.

I really needed to stop taking E.

~Later~

"Here." I held out to Stan's hat to him Monday morning during school.

He pulled his head out of his locker and his face turned three shades of red. He took the hat from me, avoiding eye contact.

"Thanks." he said.

"Your shirt's at my house being washed. You can pick it up later." He didn't respond.

"...Or, I could bring it in tomorrow and give it to you here." Again, no response.

"Listen, about Friday night..." I said, tucking some hair behind my ear.

"We don't have to tell anyone about it, but I do think we should, you know, talk about it."

Stan shut his locked and sighed, still refusing to look at me.

"Do we have to?"

"We..." I sighed, then leaned forward to whisper.

"We slept together Stan, we had sex, and whether or not you're proud of it we can't just pretend it never happened. I know I can't and I know you can't either. We have a responsibility to each other to fix this."

He look over at me, then down, then up again.

"Okay. I'll come over tonight, okay?"

I smiled.

"Okay."

~After school~

As promised, Stan showed up at my doorstep around 6PM that night. He was still damp from his shower after football practice. I tried not to think about how much that turned me on. I didn't need another incident like Friday night.

"Hey dude, you know you don't have to knock." I told him as he stepped in.

Before Token's party, he had no problem just walking in like he lived here. This is the same guy my parents bought Hanukkah presents for and called my mother "Mom". Now Stan was _knocking_? This depressed me a little.

He just rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

"Heh, yeah I know..." I decided to let the subject drop.

"C'mon, lets go upstairs." He flinched, and I was confused as to why, but decided not to mention it. We slowly climbed the stairs.

When we got to my room, I watched Stan sit on the bed awkwardly. To prevent making it worse for him, I sat in my computer chair.

Not even a full month ago, we were in a similar position and everything was normal.

"So uhh...You wanted to talk about Friday night."

I rubbed my hands together.

"Well yeah. I mean, I know I have questions and I'm sure you do too." There was a pause. Stan played with his fingers.

"Yeah actually..." He looked down at his feet.

"Was that your...first time with...you know, a guy?" I shook my head, Christophe's face flashing in my mind.

"No, it wasn't. Don't worry." I saw his shoulder's relax as he breathed what looked like a sigh of relief.

"Okay." He breathed. I sat up straight.

"But that was your first time with a guy, wasn't it?"

He looked up, then down again.

"Yeah."

I stood up, and moved over to sit next to him, then put my hand on his knee.

"You were good." He looked at me, and turned red again.

"T-thanks. So, uh, who _was_ your first?"

Christophe's face flashed on my mind again. I tried to stay calm.

"Aha, That's not really important, is it?" He shrugged and continued to look down.

"No, I guess not."

Then came the question I had been dreading yet dying to know.

"Did you...Did you like it?"

"Huh?"

"Did you enjoy it?" He blushed again at my bold question.

"I...Well...I..." My heart started to sink.

"If you didn't,Its okay, its not like you-"

"No, no, Kyle. I...i think I did. But...i don't think i'm gay. Kyle, I still like girls but..." He paused, and my heart was frozen still.

"But what?" I pressed.

"But I think somethings here. I mean, I never would have considered something like this before, until you...You're different."

"Would you be willing to try some kind of...arrangement?" He blushed again, and this time I joined him.

"I don't know. If the guys find out, or worse, the football coach..."

"We don't have to tell anyone right away. It can be a secret. An experiment." He looked over at me. I don't know why I was so desperate to have him that I was willing to do anything. I don't act like this often, really.

"Okay...as long as its a secret." I nodded eagerly, and he looked over at me. Then smiled that million dollar smile and moved his hand to brush my face.

"You know, you are kinda cute when you blush like that." Then he leaned forward and kissed me.

And That's how two best friends became secret lovers.

If only I knew then what I know now.

~End of Chapter~

Review? What do you think?

Next chapter is Craig!

mariah


	23. Who Knew? Tweek&Craig

Chapter 23 Who Knew?

~Tweek~

I avoided Craig all that week. It wasn't easy, he knew all my hiding spots. But the longer I was left with my own thoughts, the more depressed I became.

I was tired and moody from the medication, and I was depressed because of Craig.

I motioned through my school says in a daze, I must have looked like some kind of zombie.

My chested ached so bad, I just wanted to end it.

To end it...sounded so good at that time.

Clyde approached me before the end of classes on Thursday.

"Craig's been flippin' shit Tweek. Why aren't you talkin' to him?"

I shut my locker, more set on my plans for when I get home then to defend myself to Clyde. I had no reason to say anything but the truth.

"Craig cheated on me. I have nothing left to say to him." That last part was a lie; I had a lot to say to him.

"Cheated? No way. There must have been some kind of misunderstanding."

I kept my gaze down at the ground, wondering if I should tell him what I have planned.

"No. It was Red. I saw it myself."

"Red? You're joking."

"No." I started to walk away when Clyde called back to me.

"Hey Tweek!" I stopped.

"Are you...gonna be okay man?"

I didn't turn to face him.

"If things go the way I've planned, I will be. Craig will never have to worry about me again."

I walked out the front door of Park County High School.

I did not plan to return.

~Craig~

I'd been trying to get a second alone with Tweek that entire week. No dice. He was obviously upset, but I didn't want to lose him without giving it a good fight and explaining myself.

As I hung outside during my smoke period (AKA Geometry) Clyde found me. He stomped up beside me and out of nowhere smacked me across the side of the head.

"OW! Dude, what the fuck?" Clyde just glared at me.

"Red dude? Seriously? You threw Tweek away for Red? I though your two timing days were over."

I rubbed the back of my now throbbing head.

"They _are_."I said.

"Then what the hell happened?"

"I got wasted. I fucked up."

"No shit asshole." He crossed his arms.

"I know, I know, I KNOW!" I punched the brick wall beside me, barely caring about the pain in my knuckles.

"I really fucked up."

"Tweek looks like shit dude. Like, he looks completely destroyed. I think he might do something."

"Do something?"

"Like, freak out or something man. I think you should go to his house and talk to him."

"I've tried, he wont even look at me. What am I supposed to do?"

"I don't know man, get him flowers or something...my point is, you went through all that bullshit to get Tweek in the first place, you can't just lose him over some whore like Red." I looked down. I was completely ashamed of myself. I didn't feel anything for Red anymore, did I? Why did I do something so goddamn stupid?

Clyde huffed.

"look dude, I've never seen you treat any chick like you do Tweek. I can tell this isn't some kind of cheap fling. And I'm pretty sure that you're Tweek's whole life. Don't fuck this up again." He patted my shoulder.

"Anyway, I gotta go. I'm helping Amanda with her English homework."

"But you're barely passing."

"She doesn't need to know that. See ya." And he just walked away.

"Flowers...huh."

~Later~

About an hour later I was on Tweek's doorstep with a handful of white daises I ripped up from some jerkoff's yard and cleaned up with my pocketknife. Not exactly romantic, but it was the best I could do. I didn't even think there was a flower shop in South Park. Except maybe for Big Gal Al's, but the thought of going in there made me shutter.

I knocked on the front door and self consciously tried to fix my mop of black hair in the window's reflection. I needed a hair cut, but I hated how I looked with short hair.

Mrs. Tweek answered the door with a smile. She was such a nice woman, yet I often wondered what kind of parent would force their son into a caffeine addiction before grade school.

"Craig sweetie! We haven't seen you around in a few days! Come in, would you like some coffee?" since my family is, to the very least, dysfunctional, the Tweaks have more or less adopted me as their own.

And by adopted I mean allow to come over in the middle of the night, stay for days on end and eat out of their fridge.

Oh, and fool around with their son.

But they don't exactly know about that yet.

"no thanks Mrs. Tweak. Actually, I was wondering if-"

"Oh! You must be looking for Tweek. He's upstairs. I haven't heard a word out of him since he came home. Would you let him know dinner's almost ready?" I smiled.

"Sure mum." I pecked her on the cheek, something I'd never do to my own mother, and went upstairs.

I've known the Tweaks since I was a kid. They may have their own set of problems, but one thing keeps me from ever looking down on them.

At least they never beat their son.

~C~T~C~T~

"Tweek? Dude, it's Craig." I knocked on Tweek's bedroom door. There was no answer.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay? I made a mistake. I don't even like her."

Still no response. He must have been still pissed.

"But that's no excuse." I continued.

"I know I'm no good at relationships and commitments or whatever, but I want you to know...I love you, and I promise if you give me a second chance, I'll never do it again. If I do, you can send the gnomes after me, okay?" Pause. I was on the brink of tears at this point.

"Tweek, please...I...I'm begging. Open the door.

Silence. Was this the end?

"Craig?" I whipped around to see Mrs. Tweak standing at the top of the stairs, a handful of towels in her arms.

"Mum."

"Did Tweek lock the door again? Here." She reached into the big pocket of the brown coffee shop apron she was wearing and pulled out a small ring of keys.

"We keep these in case Tweek has an episode. Let me open the door for you." I moved over so she could open her son's door.

She pushed the door open, let her smile fall, and screamed.

I pushed her out of the doorway and saw an image that would forever be burned into my mind forever.

Tweek was on the floor, wrists cut open and pill bottles scattered all over the floor.

His eyes were rolled into the back of his head and he was twitching violently.

My heart stopped.

My blood ran cold.

And Mrs. Tweak wouldn't stop fucking _screaming_.

"Mum, go call 911...NOW!" I orders, and she gave me big fearful deer eyes before scurrying off.

Shit, why didn't I pay attention during first aide week in health class?

I rushed over to him, feeling numb, and trying to search my numbing brain for anythign that could save him.

My mind was racing, but I knew I had to concentrate.

"Okay okay okay...um...stop the bleeding." I moved over to the door, where Mrs. Tweak had dropped the stack of towels she was holding.

"Good, now rip it in half and stop the bleeding." I kept giving myself verbal instructions, because if I didn't, I thought I would freeze up.

I pulled out my pocketknife and sliced the towel down the middle the wrapped each strip around Tweek's wrists. I tied them tight, then looked down at the pills.

Shit, he overdosed. What do I do? I had no idea, so I did what I thought would be the best idea.

I grabbed Tweek gently and turned him on his side, and stuck my finger down his throat , deep enough to trigger his gag reflex.

Like I had hoped, he started puking, and I saw the undigested pill capsules. I hoped that this got rid of most of them.

That was when the paramedics arrived.

They pulled me away from Tweek, but I didn't want to leave him.

I couldn't let him be alone again.

I put up enough of a fight for them to give in and let me in the ambulence with him.

"Look kid, I don't think you should come. You might get in the way."

I tried to be as reasonable as I could in my current state.

"Listen asshole, that's my fucking boyfriend, and unless you want me to shove that gurney up your ass, you'll let in the fucking ambulence!"

My logical reasoning convinced them then the end.

Tweek was normally really tiny and meek for a 17 year old boy, but while he was attached to all those monitors and drips and wires, he just seems so much smaller.

Breakable.

Though, at this point, I didn't think Tweek could be anything _**but **_broken.

A broken Tweek...a twitch?

Focus Craig.

When we got to the hospital, a nurse dragged me to the waiting frrom and the paramedics wheeled Tweek somewhere else.

I called out for him.

He didn't answer.

And for the first time in years, since my dad first started hitting me, I prayed.

I prayed I'd be able to tell Tweek I loved him again.

~To be continued.

oh god. Will Tweek survive? Tune in.

Next chapter, Kenny!

Review! I want to know who's still reading

Mariahs


	24. Don't Jump Kenny

Chapter 24 "Don't Jump"

My first day of work vacation came, and I decided to sleep in till 11. It felt great.

I was completely prepared for almost anything Jameson could throw at me.

At least that was what I thought.

His house was absolutely nothing like I expected.

His house was absolutely nothing like I pictured it.

When I showed up at the address in North Park, I was astounded. His house was four stories high with a black iron fence. It was bigger than token's! There was a freaking pool in the back too!

How the hell could a guy who works part time at an old garage afford a place like this?

Rich uncle must have left him a lot of cash.

"Kenny McCormick my man! Glad you could make it!" Jameson stepped put from his monstrous front door in a red velvet colored suit. He looked so different then how he did at the garage; more like a pimp then an aeromechanic.

"Hey J, how've ya been?" We high fived, and Jameson grinned.

"Hope you're willing to do some work today boy."

"I always am."

"Good good, follow me."

So I follow Jameson into the foyer of his large house, and upstairs.

"So, what kind of work did you want me to do? Clean the pool? Or maybe retile the roof? Did the yard workers go on vacation or something?"

He laughed, and led me down a hallway with a lot of doors.

"Naw man, Robert and Jesus have the day off today, but you won't be doing anything like that."

"Alright, so what did you want me to do?"

He stopped at a door and put his hand over the golden knob.

"Are you good at keeping secrets Kenny?" I was taken by surprise.

"Uh, pretty good I guess. Why?"

He turned the door knob and pushed the door open.

There was a bed, a nightstand with two drawers, and a man with slicked back hair tossing a designer suit jacket onto the bed.

I recognized him from the newspapers that were always laying around at Kyle's and Butter's. It was the mayor of North Park.

"Can we hurry this up? I've got a press conference in two hours."

Jameson put a hand on my shoulder.

"My apologies Mr. Davis. Ken here's new to the trade, aren't you Ken?"

"What trade?" I started to ask, then it hit me like a ton of bricks.

Oh god.

"Jameson, what the fuck man?" I shoved him out of my way and stomped down the hallway.

There was no chance in hell I was going to become some cheap whore.

"Ken! Kenny! C'mon man!" I could hear Jameson chasing after me, and I felt him grab my arm.

"Wait a second man." I jerked my arm away from his grip, and turned around, I was about ready to fucking deck this guy.

"Why should I? I'm not some kind of whore J."

"Of course yer not dude. "

"Then what the hell makes you think I'd be willing to ever do this?"

"I heard you were quite the bed master."

"Yeah, two years ago."

"You wouldn't be average Ken. Girl prostitutes? Hell man, they're a dime a dozen. But male ones, marketed right? Especially one like you? You'd be worth a fortune."

He put his hands on my shoulder, but I shoved it away.

"I'm not a whore."

"C'mon Ken, you need the money, and Mr. Davis will willing to pay you 3 grand for two hours."

I stopped dead.

"T-three grand?"

"Five if you swear to stay quiet. Elections are coming up and he can't have any scandals."

Five grand. That's five thousand dollars. The money was too tempting. But was I really willing to resort to…._that_, just to keep up?

"You can stop any time you wanna Ken. I've been in the business for 25 years. I started when I was 15. I was in the same hole you are now. I just wanted to help a brotha' out."

This was way too much. My mind was spinning.

"Do I… have to do it now? Can I…like….think about it?"

"You could, but I don't know when Mr. Davis will be back and he might not make this kind of offer again."

"Shit, really?"

"Yeah man, I could get someone else to do it, if you need more time."

Five thousand dollars. I just….couldn't pass that up. I could act like I was just hooking up with someone at a party or something.

I just had to keep thinking like that.

"No, I'll…I'll do it. But no one can ever know about this. Clear?"

"Crystal. Welcome aboard Ken."

Without hesitation, he grabbed my arm and started leading me back to the room. I had a sneaking feeling he knew exactly what to say to get me to agree.

"Good luck man, oh, and Davis likes to top."

He shoved me in and closed the door behind me.

What the hell did I get myself into?

~2 Hours Later~

It was horrible.

The worst two hours of my life.

Who would know that Mayor Davis would suck tragically in bed?

I had never been on the bottom before, and it was overwhelmingly painful.

Next time I take a girl's virginity, I'll be extra fucking gentle.

I had passed out, although I can't remember if it was due to pain, or exhaustion, and came to at the sound of my phone ringing from my jeans pocket on the floor. 

God, it was obnoxious.

Mr. Davis was long gone when I woke up, but in his place was a large wad of bills tied together with a rubber band.

How thoughtful.

The fact that he was willing to fork over that kind of cash was beyond me. But I wasn't going to go and tell him that he wasted his money.

I sat up, ass and back killing me, and picked up the phone.

I had four missed calls….from Clyde Donnavan?

What the hell?

I hit redial, and rolled over on the bed. How the hell did this guy get my number in the first place?

"Kenny? What the fuck man? I've been trying to call you forever!"

"It's been ten minutes Clyde. Chill out."

"No dude, I'm serious. You need to come down to the dam, like, now."

"What the fuck for?"

"It's Butters."

I sat upright, wincing at the pain."

"What about him?"

"Look man, I just saw him heading to the bridge over the South Park Dam."

"So?"

"He had this look on his face…"

"I'm failing to see the issue Clyde, Butters can go anywhere he wants; I'm not his father."

"Listen man, I saw Tweek with the same look yesterday, okay? And six hours later Craig called me saying Tweek tried to kill himself."

Slowly, the pieces were starting to come together.

"Are you trying to say that-"

"I think you should come down here. Now. You might be the only one who could talk sense into him."

Pause.

"Give me 20 minutes. Call the police Clyde, okay? I'll be right there."

I hung up. I didn't think, didn't breathe, I just moved. I grabbed my shirt and the cash, and ran out the door.

I could hear Jameson yelling out to me, but it was muffled. Maybe I just didn't care enough.

I got into my truck, shoved the cash into the glove compartment, and then sped up to The County Dam.

By the time I got there, the police and paramedics had already arrived. Fear swelled up in my chest; was I too late?

That was when I saw Clyde, standing arms crossed and nervous, talking with the police. He kept shrugging or shaking his head, I highly doubted he actually knew anything about what was going on. He rarely seemed to. I got out of the car and jogged over to the cops, who gave me weird looks; Probably because I forgot to put my shirt back on.

"Where's Butters?" The cops looked at each other, then at me.

"Who are you kid?" Kid? I was 17 for god's sake.

"Kenny. I'm his friend."

"He's at the top of the dam. We've tried to talk him down, but it seems like he can't hear us. Does he have some kind of hearing problem?"

"No." As the sun set, the police's red and blue lights continued to grow brighter.

"Let me talk to him, I think if he sees me, he'll stop."

Then cops look at each other and then back at me again.

"You have five minutes before we come up and intervene." I nodded, and moved past the ops.

What the hell was Butters thinking? He must have completely lost it!

Was Clyde right thought? Did Butters want to die? Was he going to try to…

No. No way.

My heart thudded against my chest, like a bird trying to escape from a cage.

Despite everything that had happened to me that day, all I could think about was him. The only thought that was processing through my mind was

'_Please Butters, don't jump.'_

I could feel my ratty old converse sneakers slapping against the rock bridge.

And that's where I saw him, just as he was lifting his foot over the railing.

"Butters!"He paused at my voice, and turned slowly. The empty look in his eyes scared me.

"What are you doing? Are you crazy? Get away from there before you get hurt!"

He took his foot off of the railng. The wind was blowing warm air through both of our hair and clothes.

It was eerie. Quiet. Calm. Scary.

"Why are you doing this?"

No response.

"Butters, talk to me. This isn't what you want. Trust me; I die all the time."

He turned around.

"Why do you even care? "

"What do you mean?"

"You're always so busy, sending me mixed messages. I can't even tell if you're crazy about me, or couldn't care if I lived or died. If you had just confronted me about your feelings, if you had just talked to me instead of running away and trying to get me to stay away when you really didn't want me to, I wouldn't have gone to that stupid party looking for you!"

"You always run away Kenny. Why can't I?"

"Because you're not just running away, you're leaving everyone behind. And I don't run away like _this_."

"Right, because if you did it wouldn't matter anyway. You'd come right back anyway."

"Yeah, I would. Do you think I like that? Do you think that I wanted anything I have right now? The problems, my family, my home, my job, any of it? Sometimes I wish that I didn't come back each and every fucking time. Then I wouldn't have to deal with any of this. I wouldn't have to juggle everyone else's lives on top of my own, and you never would have… you never would have gotten hurt."

He looked out at the open water around the dam again, thinking, maybe.

"Please, come down. It's not too late, we can talk about this."

"I really don't think I can Ken. You don't realize what dealing with this is like. I wasn't even awake for it and it seems like I should have been. I hate how everyone is suddenly being nice to me because they know about it. No one's ever nice to me and it takes a..a _**rape**_ to get people to start caring? What's the point of that?"

I was astounded by the way he was talking. It was completely different from just a few weeks ago. Did the asshole who hurt him take the old innocent Butters with him?

"I don't know. Maybe it took that long for people to see or something. You know our friends; they can be dense as hell when it comes to emotions. I mean, look at Craig, he's a great example."

I slowly approached him and put a hand on his shoulder.

"We can get through this, if you just try."

"I don't think I can Kenny."

"Okay then." I grabbed his hand.

"I'll jump for you instead."

"What the-Kenny!"

I could see it in his eyes that he remembered. He remembered the story I told him once about why I kept coming back from the dead.

"_It's kinda like, you know, if someone kills me, no big deal. Yeah, I'll come back within a day or two. But if I happen to kill myself, for one reason or another, I won't come back. Satan gave me this option in case I didn't want to be immortal anymore. I have the power to end it all anytime I want." _I had said to him.

"_Do you want to though? I mean, you don't really wanna die forever, do you?"_

"_Ha, no. I have way too many commitments to do something like that. Besides, suicide just kind of feels like quitting, you know?"_

"_Boy howdy, I guess it does seem that way."_

He remembered that. He knew that if I jumped, I wouldn't come back.

I would be gone forever.

"I'm serious Butters. I can't let you jump, but I will jump for you if it will change your mind." To emphasize my point, I started to put my foot up onto the railing. \

"NO! He grabbed me and started pulling me back.

"You can't! You can't! You can't! Why would you do something like that?"

"Because I don't want you to leave me."

"W-what?"

There. I said it. No going back now.

"I tried to stay away from you Butters. I really did. But I'm selfish. I can't."

"Kenny, I…I…" Tears started to well up in his eyes, and he ran into my arms.

"It's okay Butters, it's okay."

~TBC~

Damn, that was long. What did you think? Review!


	25. All To Myself Kyle&Stan

Chapter 25: All To myself

~Kyle~

"Stan, this is a bad idea. I'm late for Trig, and what if someone sees us?"

"No one's going to see us Kyle. It's the middle of the day, and would you_ REALLY_ want to be in Trig right now?"

"Well no but-Hey! Watch your hands!"

"You like ot/"

I didn't know what Stan was thinking. A quickie in his car between class periods was a bad idea, and nowhere near comfortable. I kept thinking about how it was his mother's car he was trying to get with me in. He was set on it though, and we rarely spent time together lately.

The only time we did was for sex, and that was unsettling.

Stan swears up and down that isn't true.

"Regardless," I said, "we could get into a lot of trouble."

He had me pinned on the back seat, kissing my neck and running his hands all over. He had asked me to come to his car to help him out with something.

I just didn't realize what that 'something' was.

"Just relax. I'll start, okay?" He moved down and started fiddling with my belt.

I had decided to just give up and go along with it when my phone started to ring.

"Just ignore it." He said, but I knew I couldn't.

"I can't Stan. I always answer my phone. People will get suspicious if I don't/"

'Suspicious' was the word that made Stan back off. We were still hiding what we were doing after all.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Broflovski?"

"This is him. Who's this?"

"It's Craig. I got your number from McCormick."

"Okay, what's up?"

"I…uh….Clyde hasn't been answering his phone. Could you just tell him to bring mine and Tweek's homework for this week up to the hospital after school?"

I was taken aback. Hospital?

"Uh, sure, no problem. Are you guys okay?"

There was am pause. I could hear voices in the background.

"Yeah, for the most part. Just tell Clyde please. Oh, and Kyle?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't tell anyone we're here, okay?"

"Yeah sure."

"Promise me Broflovski."

"I promise! Jeez Craig."

"Good, I'm sorry I just-" A loud scream was heard, and Craig muttered "fuck" before the line went dead.

Was that Tweek's scream?

Stan gave me a confused look.

"What was that about?" I shrugged and put my phone in my pocket.

"Nothing, just have to do something after school."

"Okay…"

"And now it was awkward.

"Well, um, I really should go." I pushed Stan off of me and climbed out of the car.

W-wha-Kyle!" I got out and started straightening myself up.

"I'll see you later, okay? Give me my sweatshirt."

"Why?"

"So I have an excuse to be out here." He passed me the green article and I went back into the school.

I bet it seems weird after all of that begging to get Stan to start dating me in the first place. At first I was ecstatic. We watched movies at his house and acted like a couple whenever we were alone.

The problem was that was all it was.

In public, I was just a friend, and even then, he avoided me a lot.

I also heard some rumors that Stan was sleeping around, or at least flirting with other girls. Once word got out that Stan was on the market for the first time since grade school, he attracted them like bugs to a zapper.

Although I should have expected this behavior, I kind of hoped Stan and I would be more or less exclusive, even if no one else knew it. I had also heard a rumor about the clap going around.

I didn't want to sleep with Stan again until I knew he was clean.

I went inside the school and shoved my sweatshirt in to my backpack. I didn't even need the damn thing; it was over 80 degrees out that day.

Half of me was thrilled to be with Stan, but the other half wanted more. A lot more.

"Kyle." I turned to see Christophe with a shovel over his shoulder.

"Burying a body?" I quipped, he shrugged.

"Not this time mon ami. Twas, how do you say… beauty committee?"

"Beautification committee?"

"Aui. It was either that or suspension."

"What did you do?"

"Bury a body near the green 'ouse."

"You're joking."

"Perhaps, it would be better if you did not know."

"Yeah, probably."

"So you were with Stan this 'hole time?"

"What? I wasn't with Stan. What makes you think that?"

"Why else would you go out of your way to get a sweater in such 'ot weather?"

I glanced back at my bag. The incriminating evidence of green fabric peeking out from the zipper.

"I'm anemic." I lied. "And even if I was with Stan, that's none of your business."

"_It is_ my business, mon ami, even as just a friend, if nothing more."

"What do you mean?"

"Stan is using you. You are nothing but a glory 'ole to 'im."

"T-That's not true 'Tophe."

"Is it not? Did you not 'ear the rumor about Wendy?"

"Wendy?"

"Stan's last amour?"

"What about her?"

"Christophe leaned against the lockers, putting the shovel beside him and shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Rumor 'as it she is with child."

"No way. Wendy?"

"Aui. And the rumor also says that Stan is the father."

MY heart stopped. I couldn't breathe.

"Impossible." 

"Perhaps, or perhaps not. You and Stan are not faithful to each other, no?"

"N-no…"

"Then, 'ow would you know what 'e's been doing behind your back? Seems this is very possible to me."

I looked down. Was this possible? Could Stan have accidently gotten Wendy pregnate? How could he be so irresponsible?

"Where did you hear about this?"

"From Red, who 'eard it from Wendy 'erself."

"Are you sure she was telling the truth?"

"Aui."

I didn't know what to say. How could Stan keep a huge secret from me?

Or, did he not already know?

"I…I've got to go. Later 'Tophe." I pushed him out of my way.

"Kyle." I turned to him again.

"I am…taking a vacation from my work, so I will be 'ome this month. If you need me, you know where I am."

I nodded, and continued down the hall.

I probably wouldn't need Christophe, right? This can be easily resolved. It's just a rumor, it couldn't possibly be true….

Right?

~Stan~

When the hell am I ever going to use precalciulous? I growled at my workbook.

"_God, if you could get him out of this test, I'll never skip church to play videogames at Kyle's or to nurse a hangover from one of Token's parties ever again…"_

Seriously annoyed, I shoved my workbook across the library table.

God, I hated math.

I heard the library's doors open, but I didn't look up until a stack of textbooks bigger then mine slammed on the table.

It was Kyle, glaring down at me as he leaned forward menacingly over the table.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He yelled, startling me and making me sit up straight.

"Tell you-" "SHHHHH!" The librarian interrupted. I glared at her and continued.

"Tell you what?"

"About Wendy."

"I told you we broke up months ago."

"No, you idiot. Why didn't t you tell me you go Wendy pregnant?"

"WHATTTTTTTTT?" I flew back in my chair, crashing to the ground, people started to shush us again. I stumbled to my feet.

"What are you talking about Kyle? I never knocked Wendy up!"

"SHH!"

Oh you 'Shh!'!" I yelled. The librarian glared at us.

"Mr. Marsh, Mr. Broflovski, I suggest you two take your conversation elsewhere."

Kyle and I glanced at each other, gathered our things, and walked outside into the brisk afternoon air. We dropped our books and bags and continued to talk, calmer then when we started.

"I never knocked Wendy up Kyle. We were always careful, I swear."

He wrapped his sweatshirt tighter around himself.

"That's what people are saying Stan. It even got to Christophe."

I couldn't help but growl. Christophe again.

"Of course he heard abo0ut it. He always knows exactly what to say to make you not trust me."

Kyle looked confused.

"Christophe isn't trying to discredit you Stan. He's better than that."

Yeah, right. That French bastard had been trying to get Kyle and me to end our relationship before it even started.

"Is he, Kyle? Every chance he gets he tries to turn you against me."

"Why would he want to do something like that?"

"Isn't it obvious? He wants you and the only things standing in his way is me. If I seemed like a bad guy, he thinks he'll have a better chance at winning."

"What am I? Some sort of prize to be won?"

Kyle didn't realize what Christophe and I already did; Kyle _was_ a prize.

"Whatever man. He hates me, and he'd just as quickly put a hit on my head if he could get away with it."

"Stan…" He warned. I groaned.

"This isn't even about Christophe anyway. I didn't get Wendy pregnant."

"If you did, would you tell me?"

No.

"Yeah dude, stop worrying about dumb rumors."

"I laughed as convincingly as I could and slung my arm around Kyle's shoulders.

"Besides," I chuckled, "Wendy isn't dumb enough to get herself pregnant."

Kyle laughed with me, realizing how dumb the idea sounded, and things seemed to be ok as I took him to his next class, grabbed his ass and smirked when he turned red. Christophe gave me a death glare from across the room, but I just grinned at him and waved. Like the asshole I knew I could be.

Honestly, I didn't know if I got Wendy pregnant. Was it possible? Maybe, I didn't know how long it took for a girl to know. And if I did do it, what the hell was I going to do? Knowing both our families, they'll make us get married, and I don't want to do that.

I decided, that the next chance I had I would confront Wendy. There was only one way to be sure.


	26. Numb Wendy& Cartman

Chapter 26 Numb

~Wendy~

_Chem II, Trig, World History II, lunch, band, choir…clinic._

My mind was full. If it got any more crowded, I thought my head would explode.

I knew I was running out of time. Every day I wasted conflicted over this decision, the more my window of opportunity was shrinking. I had to make a decision soon, and I knew what I was leaning towards.

Abortion has always been a touchy subject, but so was teen pregnancy. I didn't want to get married yet, which I knew my parents would make me do, and certainly not to the father!

Eric Cartman. I wondered a lot through the ordeal about how he felt about the situation. I wondered if I should ask before I made up my mind.

Did he care? Would he want to hold a funeral or something?

I doubted it; Cartman barely cared about anything. Knowing him he would want to sell it to a stem cell research facility…Or was that the old Cartman? I didn't know anymore.

Regardless, I still had to ask him. It was the right thing to do.

I opened my locker and stared at the little mirror I stuck to the door. My face was paler, and I was starting to get bags under my eyes. Great.

It was then that suddenly my locker was suddenly slammed shut my an arm dressed in a Cows football jacket.

Stan.

"Wendy, I think you and I need to talk."

Crap. Did word get out? 

"S-Stan, hi. What about?"

"There's a rumor going about us that's getting me in some trouble. I need to know if it is true."

Uh oh.

"Oh, uh, what rumor would that be?"

"The one about me getting you pregnant."

"Oh…you heard about that huh?"

"What do you mean 'oh'? Did you know about this?"

"Sort of."

"Why didn't you stop it?... Unless it's true."

I had a few options: 1, tell Stan the child wasn't his, or that there was no baby at all, or 2, lie about the paternity to avoid completely humiliating myself.

"Oh course it's not true! I'm not pregnant. Red must have started that rumor to get back at me."

Stan cocked his head like he didn't believe me.

"Wends, are you sure you aren't? Because if you are, and it's my fault, I want to, like, take responsibility, you know?"

He looked so serious when he gently grabbed my shoulders, staring intensely with his big sky blue eyes.

Unconsciously, I put my hand to my stomach. If I decided to go through with the pregnancy, if I decided to keep it, it would need a father. The last person I would want near my child was Eric. Maybe…Maybe Stan could…

"Stan, I'm sorry." was all I said, and all I had to say. His eyes widened as he began to believe the lie, and didn't move or say anything for a while.

He then, without warning, pulled me into a hug.

"Stan….I…"

"It's not your fault Wendy. It's mine_. I'm_ sorry." I couldn't help but hug him back. Our relationship had ended so badly, over something so stupid, I was worried we were never going to talk to each other again. I missed him, in a way. When we were together, things were so much simpler, before Bebe got mixed in. Although I didn't want to be with Stan anymore, I missed what we had.

Deep down, I knew I had to let go of him.

"Don't worry Stan; I'll be taking care of this soon enough. You won't have to be bothered with me after that." 

"Wait-What?" he pulled me away from his chest and looked at me.

"What do you mean Wendy?"

"I mean that by this time tomorrow, hopefully, this won't be a problem anymore."

It took him a moment to comprehend what I had said, and I could see it clicking in his mind.

"Wendy….You can't seriously…" He paused, and glanced around for eavesdroppers before continuing softly.

"You're not really considering an _abortion_ are you?"

"What other choice do I have?"

"You can't! What would our parents think?"

"Nothing, because they _won't_ know. And they'd probably respond better to that then to me being a teenage mom."

"Shouldn't my input mater?"

"Your input will matter when you're the one who's pregnant!" I snapped, slamming my locker and walking away.

The _**nerve**_!

Now I remembered why I ended it with Stan. He kept trying to control me. (A/N: What? Personal delusions FTW!)

I had no say, I didn't care that he was the….

But he _wasn't_. He _**wasn't**_ the father, and that's why he had no say.

As much as I wanted Stan to be, he wasn't. Would I keep the child if it _was_ his? I didn't know.

What I did know was that I couldn't keep it, regardless.

~Cartman~

Gym class: truly a tortuous high school experience.

The teacher was evil, even by my standards, forcing us to run and run and run, I'm surprised no one has died yet.

I'm not fat anymore. I accepted that I was a long time again and did what I could to fix it. I worked my ass off, figuratively and literally, and now I'm built like a football player. I don't play though; I don't like to.

I'm sure that everyone nearly dropped dead from cardiac arrest when they realized how much I had slimmed down freshman year, but they all still call me 'fatass' regardless.

Not that I cared much though.

The plus side to this was I didn't feel as self-conscious in the locker room, so now I could concentrate on all the gossip.

"So what's this about Stan knocking Wendy up?" Token said, picking up his polo shirt. He sniffed it before putting it on.

"Where'd you hear that?" Clyde responded from across the locker room. He had two bags that day, though I wasn't sure why.

"From Red and Millie. I heard it after golf yesterday.

"Golf is such a gay sport." I wanted to say, but I bit my lip to stifle it. I was mean, but not that mean.

Token used to play football, but a serious sport injury sophomore year forced him to quit. It was devastating to the whole school; he almost died. The only one who actually benefited from the accident was Stan, who ended up taking Token's place. Token found a new niche playing golf, but I often wondered if he missed football.

"Is that true?" Kyle asked.

"I have no idea. Red said she heard it from Wendy7 herself." Token turned to put his shirt on, and I noticed the long scar down the line of his vertebrae from the accident. The damn kid was lucky he could even walk.

"I also heard she was going to abort it, so we may never know."

That caught my attention.

"_It's yours."_ She had said; was Wendy now telling everyone that it was Stan's?

Was she telling people this because she was ashamed that it was mine, and she was going to abort it?

I had to talk to Wendy. I couldn't let her do it.

TBC

Next chapter: Tweek and Craig!


	27. Rescue Me Tweek

A/N: Hey! I'm not dead, just hammered with extra school work. I've got a beta reader too, so I'm hoping she will improve my writing exceptionally.

Enjoy the chapter! Mariah

Chapter 27: Rescue Me

~Tweek~

I thought I was in heaven at first.

There were lights flashing before my closed eyelids, and I could hear random voices; Craig's was among the loudest.

I couldn't feel anything.

After a while, I couldn't hear Craig anymore. He disappeared, and was replaced by louder, unfamiliar voices.

And I felt pain.

So much pain.

But then the nothingness returned soon after. I couldn't see, hear, or feel anything.

I was scared. Was this what death was like?

It if was, I had made a terrible mistake.

But as feeling began to return to me, I realized I wasn't in hell. Light was burning into my eyelids. Was I in heaven?

But then I thought that this couldn't be heaven; I felt pain, both physical and emotional.

Craig didn't love me.

A beeping rhythm started to fade into my awareness, and so did white light.

When I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was a white ceiling.

Then a heart monitor.

White bed sheets.

An IV attached to my arm.

And then I saw Craig sitting in a chair, but hunched over with his head resting on the uncomfortable hospital mattress, asleep.

I was in a hospital. How did Craig find me?

A memory I didn't consciously recall flashed into my mind. Craig was standing above me, calling my name and begging me to wake up. He was crying.

Craig had found me; he had saved me.

Why? Why didn't he just let me die?

I couldn't take it anymore.

The pills, the doctors, the emotional strain, the hallucinations and mood swings, the anxiety; it was way too much.

I looked down at my arms, which were wrapped up in gauze from my wrists to my elbows. I could imagine the scars the stitches would leave. I chuckled to myself thinking, '_I'm sure glad I like long sleeved shirts.'_

I sighed, and looked over at sleeping savior.

"C-Craig?" I whispered in a hoarse voice. I almost didn't recognize myself.

He twitched a little, but didn't wake up. I contemplated shaking him awake, but decided against it. I figured if I woke him up, he'd leave, and I didn't want that. Not yet.

I wanted to rustle his hair a little, but the bandages were too heavy. Or maybe I was just too weak.

'_I guess I'll always love Craig, even just a little bit. He's left a mark on me I don't think I could ever get rid of.'_

So I rested my head, focused on the heart monitor's shrill beeping, as well as my and Craig's breathing. Before I knew it, I had slipped back into the darkness again.

I came to my senses a while later. The sun that was once shining through the window was gone now; a dark sky gazed in behind the window's glass.

My arms were numb, and when I looked down I realized the bandages had been changed.

Craig was gone.

I heard footsteps down the hall, and a nurse into the room.

"Hello, um...Richard Tweek?" She asked, looking down at her clipboard.

I almost said no. No one called me "Richard", not even my parents. "Tweek Tweak" was the only name I ever knew. Hell, I even signed my name on my work checks "Tweek Tweak".

"Yeah?" I rasped. The nurse smiled. She was cute, but seemed so young, with her light brown hair in a ponytail behind her head and big brown eyes. She must have been a nurse's assistant or something.

"I'm so glad you're awake."

"How long…what day is it?"

"It's Monday. You've been out for almost three days."

"Th-Three days?"

"Yes. You've been through quite a lot."

She was wearing scrubs with rainbows on them, and the colors made me dizzy. She reached into the pocket of them and pulled out a bottle and a syringe.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Giving you a simple antibiotic. You don't want to get an infection, do you?"

I wasn't sure if this was proper nurse behavior, and I wasn't really sure that a nurse assistant should have been giving me antibiotics.

I caught a glimpse of her nametag. Rosetta Nao.

"Um…I don't want to be rude, but who are you?"

She looked at me blankly for a moment, before holding up her ID.

"Oh, silly me. I just started working again. My name is Rosetta, RN."

"RN?"

"Registered Nurse."

"Oh." So she was licensed, right? That was good.

"Where's Craig?"

"Oh, that nice dark-haired young man? he went to get coffee. He'll be right back."

Coffee. I could almost feel my body perk up at the thought of my long stunted caffeine addiction.

I had weaned myself from caffeine in middle school, after an incident in the 6th grade pep rally. I don't remember much, but it involved me in my underwear hanging from a basketball hoop.

The principal said I could quit the coffee or be expelled.

So I hadn't had coffee in six years, but now after almost dying and having nothing left, I considered picking up the habit again.

Hell, what did I have to lose?

"Could you…bring me a cup…please?"

She smiled, unknowing.

"Sure thing, sweetie. I'll be right back."

She finished up giving me my medication and scurried off.

Craig arrived shortly after with a Styrofoam cup in hand. He frowned as he watched Rosetta leave. Did he not like her? I guessed not.

He may have been frowning at Rosetta, but his face turned to lost shock when he looked my way.

"T-Tweek…" He stuttered. "You're awake."

"Y-yeah."

At first, it didn't seem like he knew what to do, because he froze in place, just staring at me.

What, has he never seen a guy who just attempted suicide after his boyfriend cheated on him?

Okay, never mind.

"How're you feeling?"

"Hazy. I don't remember much."

"Oh." He slowly walked over to the seat he had abandoned before I awoke. He took it again, and then stared at his hands in his lap.

"Tweek…" He started, but there was a knock on the door.

Rosetta popped in, and I could smell the hot coffee.

"I'm back! Here's your coffee Mr. Tweek."

She handed me the Styrofoam cup. I could feel my whole body get lighter.

"Thank you, Rosetta."

She beamed, winked at me, and then left.

"Coffee?" Craig asked in disbelief. "I thought you kicked it?"

"I did. But what's the point of staying away from it now? It's not like it'll hurt me or anything."

I took a sip, and spent several long seconds basking in the familiar buzz.

Heaven…

"Tweek, listen, I-"

I held the cup on my lap. "Why, Craig?"

"What? Why what?"

"Just…why? Why did you have to kiss me behind the school that day? Why did you lie about your dad hitting you? Why did you cheat on me with Red? Why didn't you leave me to die?"

He looked at me for a while, wide-eyed and speechless. I thought about how Craig didn't show much emotion around anyone except me. Most people thought he was an asshole, but he was actually just shy and had trouble opening up to people.

"I love you Tweek. What happened with Red… that was the alcohol…well…not just that, but…" He looked down.

"I've never liked anything, or anyone, like this before. Not Red or beer or weed or Red Racer, or even Stripe…none of them compare to you…and, like, I guess I'm scared, you know? I'm scared because you can hurt me, and you're a guy. I mean- my family's Christian, for god's sakes! I was taught this kind of thing is…you know…bad." I'd never heard Craig sound so scattered.

"Craig, you got kicked out of Sunday school in second grade."

"That doesn't stop my mom from preaching, or my dad from bitching about how I need a girlfriend…I guess I just needed to prove to myself that I'm not…you know, straight. So when I got drunk, I felt confused, and Red was right there and….I just lost it control. I had to know if I was gay or not."

I stared at my hands as he opened up to me. I should have expected something like this. After all, us getting together was so sudden. I should have realized he would backlash in some way.

"But I realized that I didn't want Red. I still like girls a little, yeah…but I love you. I came to tell you the truth that day, but you had already…"

"Why didn't you tell me you were still unsure, Craig? We could have worked something out!"

"I thought I could control it. I didn't want to hurt you again…"

I continued to look down. I thought that if I looked up at his distressed face, I'd start to break down too. What was I supposed to say?

That I forgave him? That we could try again?

"When I saw you like that…I freaked out. Something in my head snapped. I almost ate the paramedic. It was a mistake, I realize that now, but…I want to commit to you."

"You need to find some other way to prove it to me, Craig."

I looked up; his gaze shifted downwards.

"I know. I'll find one. Just give me some time."

I was on suicide watch for days in the hospital. Pills, nurses, doctors… if I wasn't crazy yet, I was definitely heading that way.

Craig was on the phone a lot. I think he just needed an excuse to get away from me without actually leaving.

He talked to Clyde a lot, and I think he even called Kyle once, but that was just because he couldn't get in touch with Clyde.

Craig doesn't have too many friends.

As for me? I hung around the psychiatric ward, realizing for the first time how good I really had it.

Sure, I had some mental issues, but at least medication could control it and I was able to live a normal life. I could go to school and have friends and fall in love… I had met a 21-year-old girl who had been in the ward since she was 12 due to delusions. I tried to talk to her, but she was convinced she was a princess in an alternate reality; that her prince was going to come rescue her from the trolls that were keeping her locked up and spied on her in her green Jell-o.

I actually felt sane for a while. Even underpants gnomes weren't _that_ bad.

I continued to dwell over Craig, though. I often thought about him, but got nowhere.

Then one day a rumor flooded through the ward. Someone apparently tried to jump off the town dam and had attracted the attention of the South Park Police and local news crew. I was curious, but didn't think too much of it until about two days after I heard the rumor, when I ran into someone I'd never expect to see there.

Butters Stotch.

For a moment, I was convinced he got himself lost and ended up in the ward's cafeteria by accident. Things like that tended to happen a lot to Butters.

He was just sitting there, staring out the window. When I confronted him, he plastered a smile on his face; it wasn't genuine.

"Butters?

"Oh…uh, h-hi Tweek. What are you doing here?"

"I was about to ask you that." I said, wrapping my arms around myself.

"Oh, well, it's a long story." I nodded, understanding, and sat down beside him.

We sat in silence for a while. After all, we barely ever spoke to each other. Craig and Kenny were close, sort of, but we rarely associated with each other.

"I tried to kill myself." He said suddenly, startling me. "I almost jumped off the side of the dam."

I was beyond shocked. Butters was the last person to ever be considered suicidal. For god's sakes, he was the kid most likely to live under a rainbow and have a pet unicorn.

He half chuckled then looked down at his hands.

"I almost did it. I could have, but Kenny…" He sighed. "He just wouldn't let me."

I looked up at him.

"I'm sorry…I guess I'm just not comfortable talking to all of these strangers. You're a familiar face, at least."

"It-It's fine. Don't worry about it."

"I realize now that it would have been a mistake, you know…to end it? I didn't want to die, I just wanted to forget everything and start over…but death isn't the way to do it. Kenny saved me."

"You really care about him, huh?"

"Yeah… he means the world to me. Kenny's not perfect. He never has been, but everything he does for me, he does without complaint. I don't know if he loves me or anything, but at least I know he cares. I just have to remember that whenever he makes mistakes."

He sighed and I sat there, dumbfounded. I had never realized that Butters could ever come out with something so deep and thoughtful; maybe I had been misjudging him all these years.

"Thanks for listening, Tweek. I hope we can be able to hang out again, you know, when we get out of here." He smiled again, and then looked up at the clock. "I gotta get to my session. See ya later."

And he walked away, self conscious and quiet, as he always was.

Maybe I had a few problems, and maybe I had some things that I needed to work out, but I know one thing for sure.

At least I know Craig loves me.

-End of chapter

Next up: Butters and Kenny


	28. Far From Here Butters&Kenny

Hey! Sorry for the late update, I've been swamped with end of term crap..eww.

So After the Mysterion episodes that aired recently, I realized that Kenny CAN kill himself and still come back...well, I am now aware, but I can't really go back and change it, so...just kinda ignore it for now, k? Thanks

enjoy!

Mariah

Chapter 28: Far From Here

~Butters~'

You would think not remembering being raped would make moving on easier, right?

Well, you're wrong.

We're both wrong.

It haunted me. I couldn't eat or sleep or even think properly. School stopped making sense; it was like everyone was speaking Chinese or something. But then there were points during the week where everything was silent... Maybe my brain had pressed a 'mute' button or something.

Every second my chest ached to the point where it got difficult to breathe. I had sparratic panic attacks throughout the day and even while I was asleep.

Kenny wanted to help; I knew he did. But I couldn't stand how he looked at me, like he was afraid to even touch me.

I didn't blame him, after all, there was no way anyone would love me now; I was too dirty.

When that idea hit me, the idea that Kenny couldn't love me because of this, it became too much.

I couldn't take it anymore. I just couldn't.

Without even thinking, I left school and found myself unconsciously marching to the town dam.

Someone was calling my name, but I just didn't care.

People weren't allowed up on the dam for safety reasons. Someone could fall or god forbid, jump off. Cartman had tried to convince me to go up there several times before, but I was too conscious of the law and getting grounded to ever go through with it.

I should have still been like that.

No more innocent Butters.

When I made it to the top of the dam, I stood on the edge looking out at the water. It was so quiet; I remember wishing I could stay there forever.

Kenny's face kept flashing in my mind. I kept picturing how he kissed me and then walked away. I wished he could just tell me what was on his mind.

Kenny wore a mask, like most people do, but no one realized what he hid behind it, not even me.

An under-the-table job he's working illegally, sick mother, drunk father, druggy brother; that was all I knew, but I was sure that was just the tip of the iceberg.

I always wanted Kenny to come to me, like I often did to him. I wanted him to open up, but he just pushed me away.

I didn't want to be pushed away anymore. I didn't want to look at myself in the mirror ever again. I was putting my foot over the railing blocking my future downfall when I heard a voice.

"Butters? What are you doing? Are you crazy? Get away from there before you get hurt!"

Kenny.

He was there. He was with me. I took my foot off of the railing. I couldn't do this in front of him.

"Why are you doing this?"

I couldn't answer. He wouldn't understand.

"Butters, talk to me. This isn't what you want. Trust me; I die all the time."

I turned around.

"Why do you even care?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're always so busy, sending me mixed messages. I can't even tell if you're crazy about me, or couldn't care less if I lived or died. If you had just confronted me about your feelings, if you had just talked to me instead of running away and trying to get me to stay away when you really didn't want me to, I wouldn't have gone to that stupid party looking for you!" The words rushed from my lips so fast I couldn't stop them. My lungs heaved.

"You always run away, Kenny. Why can't I?"

"Because you're not just running away, you're leaving everyone behind. And I don't run away like _this_."

"Right, because if you did it wouldn't matter. You'd come right back anyway."

"Yeah, I would. Do you think I like that? Do you think that I wanted anything I have right now? The problems, my family, my home, my job, any of it? Sometimes I wish that I didn't come back each and every fucking time. Then I wouldn't have to deal with any of this. I wouldn't have to juggle everyone else's lives on top of my own, and you never would have… you never would have gotten hurt."

I blinked, then looked away.

"Please, come down. It's not too late; we can talk about this."

I couldn't. I couldn't. I couldn't.

"I really don't think I can, Ken. You don't realize what dealing with this is like. I wasn't even awake for it and it seems like I should have been. I hate how everyone is suddenly being nice to me because they know about it. No one's ever nice to me and it takes a... a _**rape**_ to get people to start caring? What's the point of that?"

"I don't know. Maybe it took that long for people to see or something. You know our friends; they can be dense as hell when it comes to emotions. I mean, look at Craig, he's a great example."

I almost laughed.

I felt his hand on my shoulder.

"We can get through this, if you just try."

"I don't think I can, Kenny."

"Okay then." He grabbed my hand.

"I'll jump for you instead."

_**WHAT?**_

"What the- Kenny!"

"_Suicide just kind of feels like quitting, you know?"_

"_Boy howdy, I guess it does seem that way."_

If he jumped, he wouldn't come back.

I couldn't let him do that._ I _wanted to give up; I didn't want him to surrender for me.

"I'm serious Butters. I can't let you jump, but I'll jump for you if it will change your mind." He put his foot up on the railing, preparing to jump.

I freaked.

"NO!" I grabbed his waist and tried to pull him back.

"You can't! You can't! You can't! Why would you do something like that?"

"Because I don't want you to leave me."

Huh?

"W-what?"

"I tried to stay away from you Butters. I really did. But I'm selfish. I can't."

"Kenny, I…I…" I couldn't think, and I couldn't stop tears from leaking out of my eyes. I hugged him.

Kenny needed me. I needed Kenny.

"It's okay Butters, it's okay."

Oh, hamburgers. This is a cute Butters catchphrase, but I don't really think you need it here :)

The police weren't happy with me. My parents were really pissed off, by golly. They dragged me to the nearest hospital and put me under something called 'suicide watch'. Basically, I can't do anything by myself anymore.

I wanted Kenny around with me, but my parents thought that Kenny made me go up to the dam, so they told me I couldn't see him anymore.

They never realize that would cause more harm then good.

Of course Kenny managed to come in whenever my parents weren't around. He was smart like that.

I hated it being in the hospital, though. I had no privacy. I was checked for cuts and pills and kept away from windows. It was really a pain in the neck.

I saw Tweek, though I didn't know why he was there. I had heard rumors that he tried to kill himself too, but I didn't know how true that was. Tweek didn't seem like an unhappy guy.

Of course, I probably didn't either.

~Kenny~

"Hi, I'm here to see Jimbo Marsh."

"Third floor on the right. Nice to see you again, Stan."

"Nice to see you too, Martha."

Haha, sucker.

Nurses are so stupid. If they asked for some form of ID I'd be screwed.

Though I'm sure Stan's not going to be happy when he finds out that I've been using his name to go visit Butters.

Oh, well.

Butters had been in the hospital for three days when I strolled in. He seemed happy to see me, but I could tell he was still depressed.

We talked a bit. I wanted him to talk more rather then me, but he just wasn't letting me stay quiet.

Eventually, we lead up to his treatment.

"Have you started talking to the therapist yet?"

"I don't want to."

"You've got to if you want to get out of here."

"If you were in my place, you wouldn't want to either."

"No shit."

"Kenny.." I needed to tell him something; I was dying for him to know what I felt.

"...Listen, Butters, about what happened on the dam...I wanted to tell you that I l-"

That's when my cheap-ass track cell phone started to ring.

I looked at the ID.

Jameson.

Oh, shit.

"Be right back Butters. It's, uh... my mom."

I walked out into the hallway and answered.

"Yo."

"K-man! Have ya decided on my offer yet? I've got a big-shot client coming in tonight and he specifically asked for a guy like you."

"Uh, dude, I don't know..."

"Ken, you don't understand, man; there's a lot of money in this business. You'll have that debt paid in no time."

"But J-"

"Do you really think that everyone gets out of the poor house doing good honest work? Naw, man; everyone cuts corners. This is just an easy and fast way to cut corners."

"...okay J. I'll do it."

"Thata' boy. See ya at 9, okay?"

"...okay."

He hung up.


	29. Things I'll Never Say Bebe&Cartman&Wendy

Chapter 29; Things I'll never Say

~Wendy~

"Bebe, I need a favor." Butterflies were violently trying to escape my stomach as I approached Bebe before homeroom. She turned, unknowing. I hadn't had time to notice that day, but she straightened her curly blond hair.

"Huh? What do you need?"

I took a deep breath.

"I need a ride." She shut her locker and turned to me completely.

"Okay, where?"

"The clinic in North Park."

"The free clinic?"

"Yeah. I'd go myself, but my parents will ask me where I'm going."

She stared at me for a moment, then nodded.

"All right, sure. When?"

"After school today."

"Today?" I nodded. The sooner the better."

She bit her lip, and then replied.

"Alright." I smiled and after checking that no one was around to see, I pecked her quick on the cheek before heading to homeroom.

"Thanks Bebe, I'll see you later on." I smiled again and moved on to my next class.

"_Soon. It'll all be over."_

~Bebe~

Wendy approached me before homeroom this morning. She asked me for a ride to the free clinic out of town, so I knew exactly what she planned to do with the pregnancy.

I couldn't help but wonder how Stan felt about it. Was he really okay with his kid being killed this way? I almost thought about asking him, but it wasn't any of my business, regardless.

I hated how Wendy took advantage of me the way she did. She was barely talking to me lately and when she did, it was for a favor like this. Did she even care what I thought about everything? I wasn't sure.

I thought about it throughout most of the day. I wanted to talk to Stan about it, but he seemed preoccupied with his own thoughts, and I knew Stan wouldn't have anything to do with me now that he didn't have to put up with me anymore. I wasn't Kyle's girlfriend anymore; he never had to speak to me again if he didn't want to.

I was scolding myself by the time school let out, because I was way too nervous, even though it wasn't me who was going through anything important. But when I saw Wendy, I felt three times as guilty. She was pale, almost green, and her hands were shaking when she got into my red convertible. I felt sorry for her, holding her hand at red lights trying to reassure her. She seemed to appreciate it, because she gave me one of her shy smiles that made my heart slam in my chest.

God, it can't be healthy to love someone this much.

When we arrived at the clinic, I parked across the parking lot, hoping to subdue Wendy's nerves by the time we got inside. It was a hopeless cause, I realized that, but I couldn't let her go in the way she was; she wouldn't make it.

I helped her out of the car, and she wrapped her arms around herself while I wrapped my arm around her.

"Everything's going to be okay. Trust me."

"How do you know?" She asked.

"Because I've gone through this, and I've seen some of our friends go through this too." Just a few months before I had helped our friend Red deal with a similar issue. I guess she was cheating on Jason with some skuzzball and he knocked her up. She didn't want Jason to find out, so I brought her to the same clinic that I was bringing Wendy to. Red never told Jason or the father.

As for me, well…that was an entirely different story.

"Are you sure Bebe?"

"Trust me."

"I do."

Just before we were about to walk the last 15 feet to the clinic, Someone swerved their car right in front of us, forcing us to just barely jump out of the way to avoid getting smashed.

"What the hell?" I yelled, starting to feel the sting of scrapped knees and elbows. Wendy looked mortified on her back on the ground.

The door of the car opened, and out came the last person I'd ever expect.

"Cartman?" Wendy exclaimed, still looking freaked out and holding her hands on her stomach. I stumbled to my feet, standing protectively in front of Wendy. 

"Cartman, what the hell is your problem? You almost killed us!"

"Relax Bitch, I saw ya." 

I ignored the insult. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I'm here for Wendy."

"What do you want with her?" I got in his face. This was no time for his evil antics.

"I'm here to stop her from making a huge mistake." Cartman pushed me out of his way, and his held his hand out to Wendy with a kindness in his face I've never seen before coming from him.

"Wendy, please hear me out." He said as he helped her up. She looked angry now, which was probably better then devastated.

"What Eric?" Eric? Since when did Wendy call Cartman 'Eric'?

"You can't do this. It's wrong."

"Since when are _you_ against abortion?" 

"I'm not. But you were supposed to talk to me about it. This is my problem too."

What?

"Is that what I am? A problem that needs to be fixed?" 

"That's not what I said and you damn well know it. You were supposed to come to me and talk about what we were going to do. You promised me you would come talk to me. What if I didn't want you to abort it?"

"It's _my _body Eric. Not yours. I don't want to go through this."

"It's not that hard to avoid the bottle for nine months."

"I mean giving birth you asshole! And being a mom! That's a lot to handle! It's not like _you_ have to hold any responsibility!"

He grabbed her shoulders forcefully.

"But I _want to._ That's what I've wanted to tell you if you would just listen to me. I want to be there for you, and for the brat. I mean, I know I'm not the best guy around, and I know for a fact I don't deserve you at all. But if you're willing to give me a chance, I'll do my best. I can be a decent father, I'm sure I can."

Wendy and I both stared at him, wide eyed in shock, but probably for different reasons. What the fuck was going on?

Was Cartman the father? What about Stan?

"Wendy…" I couldn't lose Wendy to Cartman, not when I was so close to getting her back.

At my voice, Wendy seemed to snap out of whatever trance she was in and pushed Cartman away from her.

"Eric, you're crazy. You hate kids, and you hate me. What we had was a onetime thing. A one night stand. It was a mistake. I'm sorry that all of this happened, but I can't go through with this. I'm sorry." She stepped around him and over to me, and I couldn't help but silently cheer at her choice.

"Wendy, please don't do this. I'm…I'm begging now." She stopped.

"I've never had a real family Wendy, you know that. And I know your home life hasn't been such hot shit either since your dad walked out in middle school. This is our chance. We can have a family that we can't lose! It could be all ours! We don't ever have to be lonely again!"

Since when did Cartman talk like this? When did he get so desperate? This wasn't normal; I had never seen this before in my life! This couldn't be happening, and this couldn't be Cartman!

"Eric…" She said, and I got scared. Was she changing her mind? No, she couldn't!

"Wendy, c'mon, you know what you have to do. Don't listen to him." She put the palms of her hands over her ears.

"I need time to think. I can't do this. Bebe, can you just take me home?" Anger welled in my chest, but I refused to yell at Wendy.

"Okay, let's go." I lead her back to my car., glaring as hard as I could at Cartman the entire time with him returning the favor.

This wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

~~TBC


	30. Ghost Stan&Kyle&Christophe

A/N: This chapter is written entirely in Christophe's point of view, which was hard for me. Because this story is from the POV and basically the narration from each character, I tried to give Christophe a French accent. If it fails, well….Ill fix it and repost it.

~Chapter 30~

Ghost

~Christophe~

I was angry.

Not just angry, I was j'en ai marre! (pissed off)

Marsh was nothing more than a selfish prick that was using cher (dear) Kyle.

I saw Miss Bebe and Miss Wendy talking early in the morning. From the way it sounded, Miss Wendy was going to kill her baby. Before she left, she gave Miss Bebe a basier (kiss) farewell before darting off to class.

Stupid Americans, trying to steal our customs.

But I disregarded it, because a more pressing matter was at 'and. I needed to talk to Kyle and explain what was going on.

I also needed to tell Stan 'e was going to lose.

Because I never lose.

I searched the 'all discrètement (discretely), and when I saw them I almost exploded in pure rage.

Stan 'ad 'is arm around Kyle and was talking to 'im about something, and Kyle looked so nervous.

I was… I'm not sure how you phrase it in English, but I believe McCormick once referred to it as 'seeing red', when I approached them.

I grabbed Marsh by 'is shirt and slammed 'im into a locker across the hall.

'ow dare 'e touch mon (my) Kyle!

"Christophe!" Kyle gasped, confused.

But I ignored him, only for that one moment.

"Do you think this is funny? Fucking with Kyle while fucking your 'oe? Do you?"

Stan was grabbing my 'ands, trying to get me off, but I was much stronger and we both knew it.

"Did you make 'er get an abortion you porc malade (sick pig)?"

"What the hell are you talking about you crazy fuck?" Marsh yelled. People in the hallway were beginning to stare, but it did not matter to me. I 'ad nothing to 'ide.

"Your beech! The one 'os 'aving your baby! Sound familier, yes? You can't 'ave Kyle and her, you know."

Kyle was grabbed my arm, trying to get me to stop. I pulled away only because I did not want to ignore him again.

"Dude, what's your fucking problem dude?"

"I know about Wendy."

Stan scoffed. "I think everyone does."

"Does this not concern you?"

"It's being taken care of."

"Stan, you said it wasn't true."

I could see the distress in Kyle's eyes. Kyle 'ad strong feelings for Marsh, I knew this very well. 'E looked mortified, like 'e could not believe 'is eyes. I wanted to 'old 'im tight.

Instead, I settled for punching Marsh in the face.

_WAM!_

'E went flying, stumbling over 'is own pathetic feet. Kyle's 'ands flew over 'is mouth. I felt terrible that 'e 'ad to see it.

Marsh was covering 'is eye with one 'and, swinging at me with the other.

I ducked, and 'it again.

Teens swarmed around us, chanting in the crowd.

"Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!"

It took several minutes for Kyle to get between us and pull us apart. The only reason I 'ad stopped was because I didn't want to risk 'itting Kyle. I would never ever 'urt Kyle.

"Guys! Stop! Please! Why are you fighting like this?"

Kyle knew, 'e 'ad to know.

"You do not deserve 'im!" I yelled at Marsh. "You treat 'im like garbage! 'E deserves a real man! One who's not afraid to show 'ow 'e feels!"

"I _do_ show him how I feel!"

"Oh? Then, can you do this?" I grabbed Kyle by the waist and kissed 'im as passionnément (passionately) as I could. I could almost 'ear Marsh grit his teeth.

When I let Kyle go, 'is face was cramoisi (crimson).

Teachers were running towards us, and I did not wish to be caught again.

"It's on Marsh," I said, and then disappeared into the crowd.

A/N: I had a hard time writing from Christophe's POV, because of the accent and because he's so mysterious its hard to keep him in character. How did I do? What are your thoughts on the whole Kyle/Stan/Christophe issue? Who should Kyle pick? I won't ask you that last one seriously until later when you know all the facts, but I want to know your thoughts so far.

Review please!

Mariah


	31. Gravity Cartman&Wendy&Bebe

Chapter 31

"Gravity"

~Wendy~

"I want your permission," I said to him on the Monday morning after I had chickened out. His words had confused me, but I had to keep convincing myself that Eric Cartman wasn't the one I needed.

"Permission for what?" He glanced over at me from his locker with a bored, half lidded expression. I bit my lip, annoyed.

"You know damn well what I want your permission for. What you did Friday was low."

His eyes narrowed. "What about it was low?"

"Playing my feeling like that. It was manipulative and selfish. I don't even understand why you're keeping me from doing this. I have the right to."

"I thought you were against abortion," he said, ignoring my first comment about his being selfish.

I looked down.

"It's different when it's you."

"I see." He replied, and then turned to me with a fire in his eyes that I hadn't seen in him in since that night this all started.

"Look, ho, I wasn't manipulating you, and trying to help you isn't selfish. Everything I said Friday was true." He slammed his locker shut.

"You have my permission. Whatever. I don't care anymore. See you." He pushed past me, bumping my shoulder, and walked away, leaving me standing alone like an idiot in the hall.

I wrapped my arms around myself, confused and almost angry.

When did I start to care about Eric Cartman's opinion? Why can't I just walk away and do what I want?

Maybe it was because I felt he should have a choice in this? Maybe because I feel guilty over what happened between us at Token's party? Maybe it had to do with how he acted when he drove me home that one day?

Maybe it was because I had a feeling that Cartman _had _changed.

I unwrapped my arms and grabbed my bag from the floor by my feet and slung it over my shoulder. It shouldn't matter much, after all; this was Eric Cartman, and Eric Cartman would always be bad news. No matter what.

~Bebe~

"So I've been thinking about getting a lip piercing."

"Why?"

"I think it'll make me look badass."

"Craig has a lip piercing. People will think you're copying Craig."

"He has an eyebrow one too. He's hogging all the facial piercings."

"God Clyde, you're such an idiot." Clyde Donovan: Craig Tucker's best friend next to Tweek Tweak, second biggest guy in the school behind Cartman, and biggest baby.

"Whatever, Bebe. Do you still wanna hang out after school?" Hang out? Sure. Be gawked at and hit on like every other time I'm alone with him? No.

"Ahh, I don't know. Not today, Clyde."

Clyde responded with a whine, and I did my best to drown it out of my mind.

Down at the end of the hallway I saw Wendy and Cartman talking, but then Cartman slammed his locker and walked away.

What was going on between Wendy and Cartman that I didn't know about?

What was Wendy hiding from me?

Deciding to find out, I stormed up to Cartman, who had stopped to open his backpack and rummage through it.

"Cartman!" I called out to him. He didn't acknowledge me, just continued to search through his bag. He pulled out a stuffed white envelope, threw his backpack over his shoulder and continued walking.

I called his name again, quickening my pace to try and keep up with him as he almost bolted down the hall. I only managed to catch up with him because he paused to get a drink from a nearby fountain.

"Cartman, we need to talk," I said. He didn't turn to speak to me until he was finished with his long drink.

He wiped his mouth with his jacket sleeve and glared at me.

"What do you want, bitch? Can't you see I'm busy?" He grunted, starting to walk again, but I continued to follow him.

"I want to know what the hell is going on between you and Wendy."

"Nothing is going on between us, bitch." He stopped in front of another locker, and slipped the thick envelope into one of its slits.

"I know you two are hiding something… What happened at the clinic just proves it."

He sighed angrily.

"Let it go, skank. This is none of your business." I cut in front of him, blocking his path.

"Yes, it is. In case you didn't get the memo, Wendy is _**my**_ girlfriend."

He smirked evilly.

"Heh. If she's your girlfriend, then why did she sleep with me at Token's party?"

"What are you talking about?"

"She didn't tell you? Well, it's true. Have her explain it to you. I've got better things to do."

"Is her kid yours?'

He didn't respond right away, and I knew the answer.

"I will win her back. You aren't a threat." He got in my face with a devious expression.

"I won't back down." He said, and with that, he pushed me into the lockers and walked away.

"Goddammit, Wendy."

When I approached Wendy later that day, with her surrounded by many of our friends, she didn't look happy to see me. But then again, she rarely did. But she smiled as sincerely as she could, probably for my sake. I didn't smile back.

"Hey Bebe, what's up?"

"I need to talk to you."

Wendy glanced back at our friends, most of them oblivious to our supposed relationship, let alone the tension I was feeling right now. She couldn't hide from me now; I knew.

"Sure thing let me just-"

"It… It has to be now, Wendy." Her light expression faded with realization, and she hesitantly excused herself from our friends. She followed my lead to an empty stairwell as the late bell rang.

She saw my serious face and I could see she was concerned.

So_ now_ she cares about how I feel.

"What's wrong, Bebe?"

"I want to know what exactly I mean to you."

"H-huh?" She looked confused.

"You heard me. I want to know why you continue to string me along while you're clearly not interested."

"What are you talking about?"

I sighed. "I know, Wendy. I know everything. I know you fucked Cartman, and I know the baby isn't Stans'." Her eyes got wide like a deers', confirming my suspicions.

"Why couldn't you have just been honest with me? Did you just…. like…. pity me or something?"

"Bebe, it's not like that…"

"That's crap. Wendy… You have no idea how…. strongly I feel about you." The words were hard to get out. My chest was tightening, and it took everything I had not to spill all my emotions out right there.

"_You _asked _me_ for this relationship. _You_ kissed _me_ first. I didn't ask for this!"

"Do you not want this?"

"I do! But… Ugh! This is so confusing!" She placed the palms of her hands to her temples and shook her head.

"Do you want me, or not?" I asked. She looked up at me.

"I do… but…" She couldn't answer me.

"You let me know when you figure it out for yourself." I pushed past her and walked away, tears beginning to form in my eyes.

Love shouldn't feel this painful….

Should it?

TBC

Uh oh. Who should Wendy pick? Cartman or Bebe? Your choice! I need votes or their story cant go on!

Mariah


	32. Breathe Kenny

Thanks so Much Kylee Carr for telling me how to fix the fanfiction issue :) The next chapter will be dedicated to you!

Here is Chapter 32, I will delete the repost.

Mariah

Chapter 32 Breathe

~Kenny~

Slowly, my financial troubles were beginning to disappear.

With the money pouring in from so many places, I'd been able to solve most of our family's problems.

Mom's treatment? Almost paid off.

Kevin in addiction counseling? Sent.

Cabinets and fridge full? Check.

Repairs needed in the house? Fixed.

All the overdue utility bills? Paid.

New clothes and field trip payment for Karen? Done.

There was _heat _and _food._ Karen had her first sleepover and has been so happy since things started improving. Hell, I even started putting money into a college fund for her.

So far, everything has been easier on everyone, even me….

Well, mostly….

Kind of….

Not.

Sure, things have been better around the house, but it's been nothing but hell for my soul.

Yeah, right. Kenny McCormick doesn't have a soul.

School was the same; uneventful. I didn't see a point in going when I knew I was going to be working for the rest of my life. I'm never going to college or anything fancy like that. Too many people rely on me to take such a selfish route, so I tried, but I didn't put too much effort into my studies. Though my mind often wandered to more pressing matters.

Like, per say, the wade of cash that finds its way into my locker every month.

They're payments from the underground fights, which I do at nights when I'm not working, or when I'm not with Jameson. I never know who brings them, because they come at random times, so I can't stake out my locker to see who it is. I figured they paid a student to drop it off. Most of those guys are really fucking scary, and there was no way they could get through the front door without getting some sort of clearance. South Park may be stupid, but they're not _that_ stupid.

Anyway, that Monday morning I found a large white envelope usually used for paying bills filled with a wad of $50 and $100 bills. I quickly shoved them into my backpack to avoid any suspicion.

I made a mental note as to what that was paying for. Groceries, the bank for bills and emergencies, Mom's treatment plan…

"McCormick?" I turned at the sound of my name. It was Craig Tucker, looking almost as ragged and tired as I felt.

"'Sup Tucker?" I asked. He shrugged weakly.

"Can I bum a butt off you? I haven't had time to go out and get 'em." Normally I would have said no, or maybe tacked on a 'you owe me later', but that day he looked so exhausted, I just couldn't.

I pulled my pack out of my hoodie pocket and handed him two sticks. He seemed surprised I offered him two; after all, they weren't cheap. But then again, he didn't know I had just a little bit of extra money on me now. I could spare one or two cigs for a guy who needed it.

"Thanks dude. Wanna go to the wall?"

I agreed; the school day was almost over anyway. Why bother with the last two class periods? Craig and I slipped out the back stairwell behind the school and made it to our favorite spot. For once, Christophe wasn't there, though I heard a rumor he got in a fist fight with Stan.

I made a note to ask Kyle about it later. It was probably just a rumor. No way would Stan ever get in a fight. Though I couldn't say the same about Christophe…

"So what's up, Craiggy boy?" I asked, lighting my butt with my zippo, the flame flickering in the cold air. The smoke from my first puff mixed with the steam from my breath as I breathed.

"Just needed a break, McCormick." He lit his cig with a blue BIC lighter. He always used it.

"How's Tweek?" I asked, and immediately noticed him tense up. Rumors were rampant over what had happened with Tweek, and what had happened between him and Craig, but I knew our arrangement; as little talking as possible unless absolutely necessary.

"You don't have to tell me what he did, just if he's ok. " There was short silence before he spoke.

"He's doing better."

"That's good." He seemed to relax when I didn't pressure him. I wondered if he thought I cared that he was fucking Tweek, because I didn't. Not really. I had more important things to worry about.

"So I heard Butters tried to kill himself," he said suddenly. Now it was my turn to feel awkward. Everyone knew, because Clyde knew and Clyde couldn't keep his mouth shut if someone put a gun to his head.

"Uh, yeah; he did." Craig took a puff of his cigarette, quiet for a moment.

"Tweek did too." I was shocked; Tweek seemed to have it rough, but I didn't realize it was that bad.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"…I almost fucked Red and he saw me."

"Red?"

"Yeah."

"Nice."

"It was a stupid idea. He got upset and… I don't know… lost it. He almost died." Craig slid down to sit on the ground, back against the brick wall and head in his hands. He seemed off. For a second I thought he looked….

Weak.

"Well he's okay now, right?"

"They've got him on suicide watch. He's seeing all kinds of doctors and stuff. He hates it."

"I can imagine." I said, finishing off my cigarette with a final drag before dropping it and crushing it with my shoe. Craig's lay abandoned on the ground as he stood up again, regaining composure.

"I guess I've just never been the kind of guy to take a relationship seriously." I nodded absently, not sure why he decided to open up to me after years of silence about his personal problems. We never talked to each other about these kinds of things. Talking was strictly minimal. Why was there a sudden change?

"Well, maybe it's time to start. If you don't start taking some things seriously, they can leave you to find someone who will, you know?" He seemed to space out for a moment, before looking over at me.

"Thanks McCormick." He stomped out his cig out before turning and leaving, leaving me confused.

What did I say that made him thank me?

Oh, well. It didn't matter.

I turned the opposite way and started walking home, the air was a bit warmer than it had been; a good omen? I hoped so.

I walked slowly, feeling just a little bit tenser than usual, and hungry, but I didn't feel like eating. After going so long without, you learn to ignore the pangs.

I entered a quiet house. Karen was on the couch doing homework, and I could see Mom's red hair in the kitchen. She was standing at the sink with a coffee mug in her hands.

"I'm home." I called. Karen looked up and smiled before returning to her 5th grade English notebook. I slowly entered the kitchen.

"Hey, Mom." She smiles at me.

"Hello Kenny. How was school? I made ya a sandwich." She placed a ham and cheese sandwich on the table. I smiled back.

"It was fine." I shrugged off my backpack and opened it, sitting in one of the kitchen chairs. Mom sat across from me. I pulled out the envelope and placed it on the table.

"Here's the money for the mortgage and this week's groceries. And your next doctor's appointment is on Thursday. Karen's field trip is on Tuesday." She took the envelope hesitantly.

"Kenny, I know you've been so busy, but I hadn't been able to ask…" She seemed upset. Was something wrong?

"What is it?"

"Where are you getting all this money? Your job at Rogers can't be payin' ya this good, can it?" I froze. I never thought anyone would ask where I got the money, just if I got it. I had no explanation.

"I've… gotten a couple of odd jobs. They pay well."

"Doing what?"

"….Entertainment." I stood up. "Speaking of which, I'm already late. I've gotta go." I wasn't late for anything, but I was desperate to end the conversation.

"Kenny, you're never home anymore. And you seem stressed out lately. Maybe you should take a vacation…"

I chuckled, irritated.

"Of course I'm stressed out Mom. I've got a lot to deal with right now."

"I realize that Kenny, but you should rest…"

"I can't rest Mom. Not with so much going on."

"But Kenny, you're just a child, you shouldn't be so stressed out-" I slammed my hands on the table, angry now.

"How can I relax when I'm the only one keeping this family off the freaking streets? You can't work, Mom. Dad's gone, Kevin's a loser, I'm the only one giving us a chance! And if that means I have to do some dark things to keep us afloat-"

"Dark things? What do you mean Kenny?"

"…Nothing. Nevermind. I'm leaving." I grab my bag off the floor and turned to leave.

"Kenny… I know we ask a lot from you… and I'm sorry." I felt guilty, but the pressure building up in my chest to the point where it was getting difficult to bear. I had to get out. I froze.

"Not sorry enough." I walked through the living room and out the front door, feeling guilty as I saw Karen's hurt face before I walked outside. The sun was starting to sink, and I knew I had about an hour or so to get to Jameson's mansion before my next client would be expecting me.

My dad's old truck sat parked in the driveway. When he left he was too drunk to remember it and has yet to come claim it, so it has unspokenly become mine. I got in and started it up, driving to Jameson's with no sound other then my own shaky breathing and the roar of the engine.

KBKBKBKBKBKBKBKBKBKBKBKBKBKB

Every time I arrived at Jameson's, I get nervous, like I'm afraid I'm going to get caught when I'm most likely never going to. Part of me wishes I did get caught. I had all my clients names, I wished I had the balls to go to the media, saying all these important people were having sex with a seventeen year old boy for money. I wondered what people would say. I wondered what my mother would say.

I wondered what Butters would say.

I pulled up behind the mansion, sighed heavily, and got out of the car. Ormond, the equivalent of a modern day butler let me in. Did he know what I was doing? What Jameson was doing? Why didn't he stop us?

I climbed the long set of windy, scarlet carpeted stairs to the second floor, which was completely filled with bedroom doors. I entered the door at the farthest end of the hall, which was Jameson's office.

He was looking at a playboy magazine when I walked in.

"Hey K man, what's up? You ready for tonight?" I just nodded, looking around the office. I had a sneaking feeling Jameson killed some rich old guy and took his house, because the place looked like something straight out of a mystery movie with red carpets and gold statues.

Jameson stood up, beaming.

"You're gonna be so thrilled man. You've got quite a busy night tonight! The Colorado State Rep is comin' down tonight and he asked for someone special." He winked at me in a perverted way; it made my skin crawl.

"When is he coming?" I asked.

"He's already waiting for ya, room #3, go get 'em." He shoved me out of his office and shut the door, probably to have some alone time with the playboy bunnies. I took a deep breath, and entered room #3.

His hands roamed my skin, and I hated it. I hated his lips on my mine, and his body on top of me. It didn't hurt physically anymore, but damn, I couldn't stand to look myself in the mirror afterword. This guy was relatively older, so he tired out quickly. I was just happy he didn't make me go down on him.

He tossed me my money, and thanked me for the fun time before fixing himself and leaving. I knew he was going to pay Jameson, leave, and I wouldn't see him again. If I did, it would just be for a repeat of that night.

I looked down at the money, now at my feet. I hated money.

I hated the State Rep.

I hated Jameson.

I hated me.

Without even a farewell to Jameson, I left. I took all my money and shoved it into the glove compartment of my car and started driving. My eyes were starting to get glossy, and I couldn't see the road anymore. I pulled over and got out of the car and just started running. I didn't know what I was running from or running to, but I ended up in the woods behind Butter's back yard.

My chest was heaving, and my whole body was shaking with gasps and sounds. I couldn't breathe, and I couldn't see.

That's when I felt two hands on my shoulders.

"Kenny?"

"B-Butters?"

"I heard you crying. What's wrong?"

"Crying?" I shakily put my fingers to my eyes to feel them soaked. He was right; I was crying. Kenny McCormick never cries.

My sobbing got harder, and I couldn't answer him. He held me in his arms as I just bawled. I had been holding everything in for so long, it just erupted like a volcano.

"It's okay Kenny" Butters sobbed with me, kissing my forehead. "It's all okay."

I never cried. I was too strong to cry… Or maybe, I was just too weak to.

~TBC~

Kenny's finally starting to crack under the stress, and right now its bringing he and Butters together, but will it push them apart?

Next up? Craig and Tweek


	33. Flaws Tweek

~Tweek~

Suicide watch SUCKS.

After Butters left, convincing doctors he had a moment of weakness and agreeing to therapy twice a week, I had no one to talk to who could even remotely relate to me.

I could tell that except for Rosetta, the nurses were apprehensive of me. I wasn't sure if it was because of what I did, or because Craig tended to give off an anti-social vibe. I think it was Craig.

But although Craig was normally icy to other people, he was especially warm to me. He seemed to feel really guilty for everything I did, because he felt it was his fault.

"So how have things been going today, Richard?"

"C-call me Tweek, sir. That's what my friends call me."

Dr. Tosh looked at me from his wireframe glasses before looking down at his clipboard. "Okay… Tweek. How have things been?"

"The same they always are; medicine, bed checks, therapy, Craig comes to do homework, stays until the nurse kicks him out, bed checks, medication, bed. It's always the same."

"This Craig… Does he understand why you're here?" I looked down, picking at the sleeves of my long-sleeved gray shirt.

"He knows everything."

"I see." He scribbled something on his freaking clipboard, like he always does after I say something weird or abnormal.

"Look, Dr. Tosh, I need to know… How long do I have to stay here?"

"Until you have the tools to handle the stresses in your life by yourself, without harming yourself."

So never?

"How is your relationship with your family?"

"The same as every other teenagers': Horrible."

"Does Craig have any issues with your parents?"  
"He doesn't like them, if that's what you mean."

"I see… How are you doing in school?"

"You already know the answer to that."

"So how does Craig feel towards-"

"Why do you keep bringing up Craig?"

"He's here every day."

"Yeah…?"

"How long have you two been friends?"

"Since kindergarten."

"So, needless to say, you two are close."

"Yes."

There was a silence that followed, and I only knew what he was itching to question.

"Just ask already, Doc. I know you want to."

"Pardon?"

"You want to ask if Craig and I are together. Gay."

"Um…"

"Well we are, so you can stop looking at me like that!" Without realizing it, I had jumped up from my chair and had yelled at my doctor, who in turn, didn't even flinch at my motions.

"Tweek, I wasn't going to ask if you and Craig were in a relationship. That was something I figured you'd bring up eventually here."

"….Oh."

I sunk back into my seat, embarrassed and annoyed with myself. I just outted myself to my doctor.

"Well, since we are on the topic, how long have you and Craig been together?"

I had to sit back and think about it. Time always blended together for me. How long had it been?

"A while. Six months? Maybe?"

"That's a long time for high school students."

"I know."

"Have you two had any serious problems?"

My illness… Craig's abuse... Craig cheating on me… Me hating every second of my drug-muddled life…

"A few, I guess. But probably no more than a regular couple, I guess…" Dr. Tosh looked at me through his glasses, not seeming to buy what I was saying.

"What happened to make you want to end your life?"

I froze, unable to answer.

"Tweek, was Craig the reason you tried to kill yourself?"

I didn't answer. I couldn't, because no matter how much I tried to justify it, to change it so it wasn't true, Craig was the reason I wanted to die. He hurt me so much; I couldn't deal with it anymore. I love him so much, everything just got all jumbled up and I couldn't think straight… But then again, I never really could.

Dr. Tosh raised an eyebrow.

"Tweek?"

I nodded, not able to actually say it.

"What happened to make you want to end your life?"

"It… It was ….a lot of factors. I couldn't handle everything happening in my life anymore."

"Yes, well, I hope that together, we can come to terms with those factors and make everything easier for you." He looked up at the clock on the bleak, pale blue wall.

"It looks like we're out of time for today."

Later

"I think Mrs. Caparelli is pregnant."

"How can you tell?"

"She's fat."

"That's nice."

"What the fuck ever. She's even more bitchy then usual at this point. She better be pregnant or I'm ripping her face off."

"Why is her being pregnant a factor in ripping her face off? That never stopped you before."

"I don't want to come off as a completely heartless bastard."

"Too late."

"Shut up and pass the noodles."

Rosetta allowed Craig to sneak in Chinese food, so we sat in my room binging on fried rice and noodles while Craig updated me on school activities.

"So Clyde told me he had a boner for Bebe."

"Did he just realize this or did he think it was a secret?"

"Thought it was a secret."

"What did you tell him?"

"I said 'no shit' and flipped him off."

"Isn't Bebe with Wendy?"

"Hell, I don't know anymore. I don't keep track of that shit."

I didn't say anything as I reached for another white cardboard box of chicken.

"So my therapist has been asking about you a lot." Craig looked up, irritated, mouth full of noodles.

"Why?" He muffled.

"Because you're here all the time… and you scare away the nurses."

He swallowed.

"What did you tell him?"

"The truth. That we were together before I got into the hospital. But I'm beginning to wonder…"

Craig sat up straight, looking at me with concern.

"Yeah?"

"Are we still… okay? I mean, being here has made me think about a lot, and I…"

"Tweek, we still need to figure everything out."

"Does it even matter to you that I'm here? I'm stuck here because of you!"

"Hey, I apologized! I don't know how to make this up to you!"

I stood up, angry, annoyed, and confused as to how I got this way as I stormed out the door, down the hall and outside into the courtyard. The sky was dark, and it was starting to drizzle. Why did it always seem to rain when things got bad? Was it a bad omen or something?

Other patients were inching their way back inside while I went in the opposite direction. I liked the courtyard; it was different than the hospital's white walls and blue sterile scrubs. It was green. Peaceful. Calm. Like I wish I was.

"Tweek…" I turned around to see Craig, looking at me with the most pathetic, sad face I had ever seen. He looked broken, but I couldn't say anything, and the rain really started to come down.

"I'm sorry. For everything." He said, and I looked down.

"I am too." I shut my eyes, and when I opened them again, he was standing right in front of me.

"I'm going to tell my parents… about us. When you get out. I'm going to tell them everything. "

The rain poured down around us, sounding almost like white noise. My hair started to fall into my face, weighed down by the rain.

I stood up on my tip toes and kissed Craig, wrapping my arms around him. He kissed me back, the first time we'd kissed since Token's party. We needed each other, as friends or as boyfriends, we needed each other.

I don't remember going back to my room, and I don't remember Rosetta hanging a 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the handle. But I remember every moment after that.

Craig and I had each other that night.


	34. You Say Stan&Kyle&Christophe

Chapter 34

"You Say" 

~Stan~

My face hurt.

God damn you Christophe, you sick bastard.

Kyle's mine! You have no fucking ownership over him! Erg, the thought of him anywhere near Kyle just…

"Stan? Stan?"

"Huh?"

"Are you ready to go yet?"

"Uh, yeah…" I shut my locker door and walked with Kyle down the hall to leave the school for the day. It's been tense since my fight with Christophe, but I think Kyle's trying to pretend it never happened. I was beginning to wonder if he was messing around with Christophe behind my back. It seemed possible, I mean, how else could Christophe get ideas like that? And Kyle and I _were_ having some problems lately…

"Kyle?" He looked up at me, big eyes innocent.

"Yeah?" I stopped in front of Kyle, blocking his path.

"You and Christophe… Do you guys have a thing or something?" His eyes got wide, and anger started to well up in my chest. He couldn't be…

"Well?"

"I… It was a while ago Stan. Before you." He said, looking scared. Did I look scary?

"If it was so long ago then why does he think you're his property?"

"I don't know Stan! Chris is just stubborn, that's all."

"'Chris'? What, you have a nickname for him now?"

"Stan, what the hell?" He tried to pull on my shirt, to get me to look at him again, but I didn't. I stomped away, anger controlling me once again.

I could hear Kyle calling my name as I got in my car and left without him. I shouldn't have, because I knew I was Kyle's ride home, but I was too angry. Looking back now, I shouldn't have been so angry, because it was so hypocritical of me.

My phone vibrated. A text message. Was it from Kyle? I stopped my car at the only stop light in town and looked down at my phone. It was from Red.

"U busy 2night? Wanna get 2gether?" I thought about it for a long minute, long past the stoplight turning green, then yellow, then red again. Luckily there were no other cars on the road at that time.

I couldn't cheat on Kyle again and then yell at him for cheating on me… But Kyle and I had a specific arrangement; we were in an open relationship, but he swore he would stay faithful, so this felt like a betrayal…

But…

I wasn't sure if I was gay. I liked guys, Kyle almost exclusively, but I liked girls too. I couldn't pick one and brand myself for life. What if I was wrong? 

"Sure babe. B my place in 10"

What if I was wrong about everything?

~Kyle~

This always happened.

Whenever Stan bothered to pay attention to me like a boyfriend instead of a passive friend, he got possessive and weird. And God forbid Christophe enters the conversation, because then it all goes straight to hell.

Chris has been trying to tell me that Stan was bad news, that there was a good reason he and Wendy never lasted. That he was too confused with his sexuality to ever be a good boyfriend to me. But I knew Stan better than anyone else, and I knew he wasn't an ass.

I think Stan was just afraid of losing me.

"Stan, just chill out; I'm not with Christophe, I'm with you."

Stan backed down a bit, and we continued walking quietly for a few minutes before

"Did you ever have sex with him?"

I could feel the heat in my ears.

"Stan!"

"Did you?"

"….Once." I could see his eyes roll and he started marching ahead of me.

I tried to catch up to him, grabbing his jacket to keep him from getting too far ahead.

"Just once, Stan! It was a while ago!"

I watched him get into his car, rev the engine and speed off. What the hell? That son of a bitch left me behind!

I stood there alone in the school parking lot, not sure whether to kick something or cry. It shouldn't have mattered…

"Left be'ind, Mon Cher?" I turned to see Christophe, straddling a black and brown motorcycle and clutching a black helmet in his gloved hands.

"I guess so…" I said, looking back at the now empty road where Stan's car had ripped through when he left.

"Here." Chris handed me a second black helmet that was attached to the back of the bike. "I shall take you 'ome." I hesitated, biting my lip. I'd never ridden on a motorcycle before; this would be strange. But I trusted Christophe, so I put the helmet over my red hair and shoved my hat into my backpack. As I straddled the cycle, Chris revved the engine, and I wrapped my arms around his chest.

"'ow do you say…. 'old on tight?" And with that, he ripped across the parking lot, the sound of the engine roaring over my screams.

"JESUS CHRIST!" I cried, clinging tightly to Christophe's jacket. He just laughed.

"It's not funny! Slow the fuck down!" I yelled, but he did nothing but smirk as he took a too tight for comfort turn by the corner flower shop.

I wanted to scream again and make Christophe slow down, but he seemed to be having fun, so I tried to relax a little bit to see why he kept such a death inducing contraption.

Being on the motorcycle felt like flying, like time around me had stopped, but Chris and I were going warp speed. The endorphins felt incredible, and I found myself laughing along with Christophe at every person who was spooked by our flash arrival and departure. It felt great. Free.

When Chris pulled up into my driveway, I found myself wishing we never had to stop.

The engine continued to purr like a kitten as Chris lifted himself off the motorcycle and then assisted me off. I took off the helmet; I felt sweat glistening on my forehead and neck.

"So, what did you think, Kyle?" He asked, a clear smile on his face.

"That was incredible! You've gotta show me how to ride by myself some time!" He laughed again, continuing to smile.

"Yes, yes, one of these days, I shall show you." I jumped a little, excited, and handed Chris his helmet back to him.

"Thanks for the ride, man, I appreciate it." I said, patting Chris on the shoulder; I was unsure about how much affection I was supposed to show Christophe after everything that had been going on. I walked around him and up my front porch steps.

"Kyle!" Chris called my name; I turned to see him straddling his motorcycle again.

"Take care of yourself, yeah?" He said before shoving the helmet over his head, kick starting his motorcycle, and zooming away. I couldn't get rid of the stupid grin on my face.

As I leaned against the railing on my front porch a small, yet at the same time big, thought crossed my mind.

Christophe and I never laugh like that with anyone else.

Maybe I'm making a mistake?

~Stan~

I knew what I had been doing was wrong.

I knew that sleeping with Red was unacceptable, even with Kyle and me fighting. But for some reason I just couldn't stop myself. I didn't want to be gay; but I knew I wasn't completely straight.

Maybe I was like Kenny and Craig… Bisexual?

Fuck that, people can't really be bisexual, can they?

By the time I made it to school the next day, I was convinced it wasn't possible. I was sure that eventually, a person would have to choose a gender to be interested in. You couldn't be on the fence forever, could you?

As the lunch bell finally rang, I realized vaguely that I hadn't talked to or even seen Kyle all day.

For that matter, I hadn't seen Christophe either...

When I stepped into the confines of the cafeteria, I got my answer.

Christophe and Kyle were both standing in the lunch line together, talking idly from what it looked like.

Why the hell was Kyle talking to him? After everything that had happened the day before, how could he?

I watched them take their food over to table by the window, and watched Christophe pull out a Harley magazine and lay it out in front of Kyle.

I tried to be as casual as I could as I approached their table, struggling to keep my breathing level. The last thing I needed right now was to come off as a crazy possessive son of a bitch.

"Hey Kyle…" I said, hoping my voice did not sound as awkward as I felt. He turned his head to look at me, while Christophe only moved his eyes from the magazine.

"Oh. Hey Stan." He greeted. Christophe placed the magazine down and motioned his hands towards the seat between himself and Kyle on the circular table.

"S'il vous plaît, Marsh, take a seat." What the hell? Since when was he so civil?

I took the seat, wanting to prove that I wasn't intimidated.

"Thanks. What were you guys talking about?" Kyle glanced back at the magazine, now almost forgotten on the table.

"Oh. Chris is going to teach me how to ride a motorcycle. Right, Chris?"

"Oui." A motorcycle? Seriously?

"I didn't realize you were interested in motorcycles, Kyle."

"Yeah well, Chris showed me his and I'm curious now."

"Ah."

Kyle and Christophe continued to discuss the vehicles, and I found myself feeling out of place. Usually if I was with Kyle, I felt I belonged anywhere. But now, I couldn't feel more alone. Maybe Kyle really was sleeping around with him. I wanted to ask him about it again, but I knew Christophe would get in my face and I really didn't care to fight with him again.

After lunch Kyle ran off with him again, so I was stuck finishing my classes for the day alone. I was jealous and angry, I realized that. So much I let Red blow me during gym, not caring that her boyfriend was doing laps in the gymnasium, only a wall separating us. Maybe something was wrong with me. No one else did this, cheat on their lover while they were insecure, did they?

I caught up with Kyle at the end of the day, mellowed out from the blowjob but at the same time angry that Kyle had been ditching me so much lately. I approached him at his locker as he was shoving binders and textbooks into his backpack.

~Kyle~

"Kyle, I think you should stop hanging out with Christophe so much," was the first thing to come out of Stan's mouth. It was so blunt, it caught me off guard.

"Huh?"

"Stop hanging out with Christophe. I don't like how he acts around you." He zips up his bag and closes his locker.

"I really don't think that's in your control, Stan. He's my friend, and I like hanging out with him."

"He just wants to fuck you."

"Then what do you want?" I started to walk away, but he sped up and cut me off.

"I'm your boyfriend and you're supposed to listen to what I have to say."

"Yeah, I'm supposed to listen; not obey. I'm not your property Stan."

"Yes. You are."  
"Says who?"

"Me, dammit! Stay away from him! I know you're sleeping with him!"

"Fuck you, Stan!"

I didn't see his fist coming. I only felt the exploding pain in my right eye and my head flying back as I fell backwards onto the hallway tile. Everyone else in the hall was silent now. The lack of noise confused my ears and all I could hear was a dull roar.

My sight was fuzzy, but I could see Stan's mortified face.

"Kyle!" I could see him reach out for me, but I slapped his hand away before slowly stumbling to my feet.

"Fuck… you… Stan." I said, before spitting in his face and turning on my heel to leave.

He didn't stop me.

Christophe was right; I was Stan's property.

I couldn't go home looking the way I did with a black eye and a runny nose from crying, so I wandered around for hours until it started to pour.

Of course it was my luck. I couldn't go home and I couldn't go to Stan…

But there was always one place I could go.

Christophe opened his apartment door clad in dark green boxers to see his little Jew dripping and shivering, tears mixing with the rain.

"M-maybe I'm making a mistake. M-maybe I've been making one this whole time." He didn't have to ask what had happened; Christophe usually wasn't too big of a talker. He just smiled a little, and let Kyle in.

TBC

Some insight on Style, and a bit of Christophe/Kyle (I have no idea what the word for it is). I know Stan seems like a dick, but he's insecure about his sexuality and doesn't know how to process it, so he's fooling around with girls while he's with Kyle. Plus he hates Christophe and can't stand the thought of losing Kyle to him until he knows exactly how he feels…I really hope people understand that's what I was going for…because if not then Stan just looks like a big douche. And all Chris knows is that Stan's cheating on Kyle and wants him to himself.


	35. Just a Dream Cartman&Bebe&Wendy

Yay! I'm not dead! Sorry...Its been a rough summer. Oh, and I lost my outline of where the hell this story is going to go so I have to retrack and try to remember. Yes I suck. This story will be ending soon, in a few chapters, but we've still got alot to go, so heres *basically* the end of the Bendy Candy part of the story.

Enjoy!

Mariah

Chapter 35: Just A Dream

~Wendy~

I was grumpy going into school on Friday. My back was killing me, and I felt, frankly, like shit. Not to mention I woke up with spotting. I thought I wasn't supposed to get my period while pregnant, but hell, what did I know?

Eric wasn't talking to me, but then again, I wasn't talking to him either. If he wanted to be the ass he'd always been, he could. It was fine with me.

He could go die for all I cared.

I couldn't care less.

I don't care. I don't care. I don't…

…

Bebe wasn't talking to me either, but I couldn't get up the nerve to try and talk to her.

When she'd confronted me, I couldn't even begin to respond. I know how I'd felt when she first kissed me, but I didn't want that anymore.

I loved Bebe, just not like that. I wish it hadn't taken me this long to figure it out.

Bells rang, mirages of people shifted through their scheduled day. My whole being was stuck in a thick fog, an ache blanketing over my entire body.

By the time fourth period came around, all I could focus on was the starting trickle of rain outside.

"wendy, can you answer number 6 for us?"

"Huh?"

"Number 6 Wendy, do you have the answer?"

"Um…No. Actually, Mr. Barch, can I go to the nurse's office?"

I stood up, and the whispering around me quickly began to quiet.

Mr. Barch just groaned.

"You kids these days, come get a pass." I slowly started towards the desk, whispers picking up behind me. When I reached for the pass when Butter Scotch cried out.

"Jeepers Wendy! Is that blood?"

"What?"

I looked down to see a small, accumulating puddle of blood down at my feet, and a small trail from my spot to the desk I was sitting at.

"Jesus, don't you women keep track of these things?" Suddenly the pass was already in my hand and he was already calling the office about a janitor.

Panic was explosive in my chest, butterflies desperately trying to escape my throat. What was going on? Was something wrong with the baby?

I rushed out of the classroom, a trail of crimson behind me along with the concerned calls of classmates.

I couldn't remember which way to the nurses office, or even my own name.

Hysteria was clouding my mind.

The bells started to scream again, and students emerged from their learning caves and stared and whispered and pointed.

The room started to spin, all of the faces around me blurred like streaked paint.

I thought I saw Bebe.

I thought I saw Eric.

But my mind was screaming and my body was bleeding and Ican'tbreatheIcan'tbreatheIcan't-

~Darkness~

I woke up in the Emergency Room, wearing Bebe's favorite cheerleading sweatpants and my blouse. Bebe explained to me that my skirt was unsaveable.

I was confused, devastated and humiliated.

When the doctor decided to make an appearance, so many questions were slamming against the inside of my head, but refuse to leave my mouth.

He spoke slowly, explaining that miscarriages were common, especially in young teenagers, and it was completely normal to have a panic attack if you were unaware of what was happening to your body. Apparently I bled a lot more then I should have for how far along I was, which wasn't far at all.

It was too young to feel pain, but I still felt guilty. I felt like I'd betrayed it, and I didn't do anything consciously wrong. It wasn't my fault. I knew it wasn't, but it felt like it was. My body betrayed what was relying on it, and I couldn't let myself just let go.

I could barely speak once I was told, and I didn't say a word as I started to leave the hospital. It was pouring out when my parents came to pick me up.

Eric was waiting outside under the overhang, sheltered from the rain.

He looked completely broken, almost as broken as I felt. Helpless. I thought he didn't care.

I knew what he was waiting for. I knew what he was clinging to, dying to hear.

I couldn't give it to him.

"I'm sorry. "

I cried. We both did. Our tears were falling harder than the rain. We didn't even want what we were given, and now that it was gone, we felt like it was stolen from us.

There was nothing to hold us together anymore.

My parents didn't ask questions yet. They only knew how raw this was, and that questions could be answered later.

Eric and I hugged, and cried, he kissed my forehead and I kissed his lips. I shouldn't feel this way towards him, with the way he abandoned me, but maybe it wasn't abandonment, maybe he was scared too.

I just didn't have the ability to run away.

~Bebe~

I watched Wendy and Cartman meld together, absorbed in themselves, and each other.

I was left alone.

I was so convinced I was going to win, that she would be mine, but I was wrong.

I failed.

Now I was alone.

What was I going to do now?

Cartman walked Wendy and her parents to get car, hiding the monster he was behind the mask of a gentleman.

I hated him. I hated that he took Wendy away from me in the one way I couldn't reverse.

Maybe I've gone crazy.

Yes, I've lost my mind.

All I wanted to do was run once I left the hospital. With Wendy going home she didn't need me anymore.

I don't think she ever truly did.

I walked back to the school to get my car, kicking myself for not thinking when I'd first jumped into the ambulance at Wendy's side.

Somehow, I'd hoped to be the one Wendy would take home, not Eric.

I sniffed and hiccupped as tears rolled down my face the whole way to the high school. I wanted to crawl in a hole and never come out again.

"Bebe?" When my key had penetrated my car's lock, a voice I didn't expect rang out.

"Oh...*Sniff* Hi Clyde."

"How's Wendy?"

"She's fine…She went home."

"Without you?"

I couldn't stop the tears from falling.

"I wasn't the one she needed I guess."

"She picked the Fatass, didn't she?" I could only nod. I didn't want to tell Clyde this, not while it was so raw inside me.

"I gotta go Clyde. I'll see you Monday."

I opened the door to my car to get in and flee, but he grabbed my arm and stopped me.

"Look, I know this is going to sound like a line or whatever, but…You deserve someone who realizes what you do for them, and does whatever they can for you."

I didn't say anything, itching to get back into the car.

"Maybe I'm just an idiot, but I don't think Wendy was the one for you. "

The tears started again, and I rested my head against his chest. None of this was fair, and none of this made sense to me. My heart was broken, and the only one willing to comfort me was a boy I barely ever noticed before.

He let me cry on him, he drove me and my car home. He stayed with me and let me rant and cry. This was what I needed to get over Wendy. I needed someone to give a damn about what I was going though.

Maybe someday I can get over Wendy…Maybe someday I can find someone new.

Maybe.


	36. Damaged Kenny&Butters

Chapter 36: Damaged

~Kenny~

Sex.

I've had it before.

I've had it plenty of times.

Especially with my new job with Jameson.

But I've never done it with someone I actually cared about. No one that I loved. Sex has never been personal because I've never been very personal with anyone.

Except Butters.

With therapy, Butters has slowly been recovering from what happened at Token's party. He's starting to dress and act like himself again, but he gets defensive whenever someone touches him. Though we've been together for such a long time, he was nowhere near ready for something like that. I knew he wasn't ready, though he constantly pretends he's okay when I kiss him, or try to touch him.

About 4 months after the incident, I was a popular choice at Jameson's private club and business. The more I committed to this, the more Butters and I got closer as we tried to rebuild Butter's fractured trust. I felt terrible every day though, because the more he tried to reach out to me, the more I pushed him away.

Because Butters was afraid of sex, and I was afraid of touching him because of my work with Jameson, so it wasn't a factor in our relationship much. It was more of a white elephant in the room whenever we were alone together, but I was in no rush to change anything right any until my job with Jameson was complete.

It wasn't like Butters wouldn't allow me to touch him. It wasn't that bad. But anything farther than that would cause him to push me away. I learned that the hard way.

Butters snuck me into his bedroom Friday afternoon after he was released from the hospital. It was a three day weekend from school but he wasn't allowed out. His parents were holding him on lockdown until his first few therapy sessions were completed. His parents were never a fan of me either, so if they knew our relationship they would never let Butters see daylight again.

We just hung out for the most part. When his parents left to go shopping, we snuck downstairs and made lunch. Only when the tension got thick and we started kissing did things start to go downhill.

It wasn't like I meant to touch him inappropriately. I knew better to just stick with his waist, face or shoulders. It was a slip of the hands, honestly. I got carried away.

I hadn't even realized I'd done it until he pushed himself off of me.

"Kenny…"

"Butters, I didn't mean to-"

"I can't."

"I know."

The elephant in the room was blowing his trumpet and stomping around. We couldn't look at each other and the silence was overbearing.

"Maybe I should go." I said, not wanting to make the situation worse than it already was.

"No, you don't have to-"

"I think I do." I got off of his bed and started to climb out his window. Butters didn't stop me, but I didn't expect him to.

It was only when my feet hit the ground did I realize I could have just used the front door.

Sunday rolled around and Butters hadn't called me yet. I felt like a girl after a hookup. Jameson had called me three times, but I didn't pick up. I didn't want to feel guilty for doing this behind Butters back.

It was only until Sunday night that my phone rang with Butters name on the caller ID. I tried not to act so excited when I answered.

"Hey."

"Hiya Kenny. What are you doing?"

_Sitting by the phone like a schoolgirl waiting for you to call me instead of going to Jameson's to prostitute myself into oblivion. _

"Laundry."

"Oh. Well, um, when you're done, do you wanna come over?"

_Yes. _

"Do you want me over?"

"If you want to come over."

"…Sure."

He hung up, and I grabbed my keys and headed out to the old crappy pickup, an unsettling feeling settling in my stomach. I kept wondering what was going to unfold once I got to the house.

His parent's car wasn't in the driveway, and I breathed a sigh of relief. They weren't easy people to deal with. Ever.

Butters was looking out of his bedroom window, waiting for me.

He didn't come to greet me when I can inside. He didn't say anything when I entered his bedroom.

His face held no emotion except nervousness when he approached me. The silence was driving me absolutely crazy.

"But-"

His lips slammed onto mine to hard I almost fell backwards. His hands were on my shirt, pulling at it to the point I thought it might rip.

I felt my back hit the bed and Butters straddle me without letting his lips leave mine. I kissed him back, missing the contact and the affection, but once his hands started to snake towards my belt, I pulled his hands and my lips away.

"Butters, no. No. Stop."

He sat up,. Still on my lap, Butters looked at me red in the face and with tears in his eyes.

"What's wrong? I thought you wanted this."

"Sure I do. Eventually though. Not like this." I pushed him off of me gently onto the bed beside me and stood up. I felt terrible, because I knew that I had given him the idea that I had wanted him to force himself to go through with this; he wasn't ready, not even close.

"Why are you putting it off?"

"Because you don't want to, and I don't want to force you into anything." I was being honest, but it was only half the truth. I really didn't want to do anything sexual with Butters until my STD test came back from the Denver health clinic. I didn't want to put Butters at risk with my dirty side profession.

Butters didn't say anything for a long time. He seemed heartbroken, almost like I'd rejected him. I felt terrible.

I left. I couldn't stand being in the room with him while he had that expression on his face.

I sat in my car for a good half hour, slamming my fists against my dashboard and swearing at myself.

Butters and I didn't talk for five days.

I didn't know what I was supposed to do to make it right.


End file.
